Spider's Print
by CaketinTheHobo
Summary: Spiderman's actions in New York didn't go unnoticed. Nick Fury wants to know who New York's new hero is.
1. Chapter 1

The city was quiet now. It was almost impossible to believe that only two days previously the city had almost been exposed to a deadly virus.

But that was New York for you. Far too used to being the centre of many confrontations, whether it was between the Avengers and an alien race, or a masked vigilante and a scientist whose human trials went drastically wrong. They moved on. Director Nick Fury had to admire the New Yorkers. They were resilient, if anything. And they _loved _their new hero.

Spiderman.

He had literally sprung from _nowhere, _taking out petty criminals and the like, until suddenly the Lizard appeared.

Fury had to admire the kid. He'd dealt with the Lizard in style, with an arrest warrant on his head _and _multiple injuries – he'd seen the footage. By his voice and physique he almost seemed to be barely out of high school, let alone fighting things that Fury's team should have done.

Within a few hours questions had been asked: _Where were the Avengers when this happened?_

Nobody was saying they didn't want Spiderman. They just didn't want him to fight alone.

The Avengers were scattered. And then when they saw that someone else was fighting the Lizard they'd taken a back-seat. They wanted to see how this kid did.

Fury had been impressed. This kid _inspired _people. While others had been running from the mess around the Oscorp building, there had been a few who'd wanted to help. So they'd made a route for him, moving cranes so he could get there in time. Maybe it was because they saw he was human, unlike the larger-than-life heroes the Avengers were.

Whatever it was, the powers that be had noticed. And they'd delegated the task to Fury: Find out who Spiderman was.

If he were honest, Fury didn't want to know. He was just happy there was someone protecting the city, even if he were a masked vigilante. But he knew all too well the problems associated with masked heroes. When Tony Stark had first shown the world Iron Man, he'd taken out a fighter jet trying to escape. There was a similar problem when Thor had first arrived – the small town in New Mexico had only finished clearing up a month ago. The government wanted to know who exactly these people were, whether they were a threat, and whether they could be recruited.

So it had been left to Fury to track down the elusive Spiderman.

"Remind me again why you called me in?" a voice asked. Fury didn't look up as the red and gold Iron Man suit landed on the rooftop next to him. "Why did you call any of us?" Tony Stark asked.

"I don't know how willingly this guy'll come in. I want it done clean," Fury said. "The less people that get hurt, the better," he added.

"And you think we're the ones to do that?" Stark raised an eyebrow inside the suit.

"I think you're able to take more punches than a regular beat cop," was the short answer. "This guy got tasered and within five minutes was beating cops to the ground."

"Still doesn't explain why I'm here at this moment in time. He doesn't seem to be out tonight."

In response, Fury pointed to the edge of the roof in front of him. It was raised slightly, a wall that someone would have to jump over if they were, say, leaping off. In the distance the wreckage of the Oscorp building loomed.

Stood out against the pale grey of the rooftop, was a handprint. It was a dark red colour –dried blood.

"How do you know it's his? It could be anybody's."

"We don't have reason to doubt. We know that before he swung off to Oscorp a cop managed to clip him. The news reels show he has trouble walking and climbing after that. It seems he landed here afterward to inspect the damage and then carried on. He then sealed the wound on that rooftop there," he indicated, "before moving through the cranes."

"Yeah, what's the deal with that?" Stark asked.

"Apparently the guy saved one of the crane worker's sons on that bridge pile-up. Saw he was in trouble and decided to return the favour."

"Wow. The guy's got fans already."

Stark crouched, examining the bloodied handprint. "He took down the Lizard with a gunshot wound? He's got stamina," he commented, before placing a finger onto the handprint.

"Jarvis, scan and analyse. Then search all the databases."

_'Scanning now, sir,' _his computer-slash-butler answered. '_Results to be expected within the hour.'_

"All right, is that it?" Stark asked. "I've got plans tonight."

"Call me when you get the results. Or if you find him. Try not to scare him off, though."

"When do I scare anybody?" Stark asked, before taking off and rocketing into the sky, headed for Stark Tower.

_**A/N: I'd originally planned to end it here but it's now expanded, so watch this space...**_


	2. Chapter 2

Within five minutes of Tony landing at the tower and pouring himself a scotch, Jarvis was back online.

'_Sir, the blood sample you analysed has several anomalies."_

"Like what?" Tony asked. He stood up, moving to the computers on the other side of the room. "Show me."

Immediately, a hologram of a DNA strand appeared, rotating slowly.

'_The DNA is not strictly human,' _Jarvis explained as it zoomed and focused on a certain area. _'It appears as if Spiderman is literally so. A human with spider DNA.'_

Tony rotated the hologram, focusing in on the strand. It didn't appear that different, until parts of the strand were highlighted in different colours. The spider DNA, apparently.

'_These are the anomalous genes. By the looks of it, the spider DNA was only formed recently,' _Jarvis contributed.

"Any luck on the databases?" Tony asked. "Even with the... spider-y bit."

He shivered a little. He didn't particularly like spiders.

_'No, sir,' _was the answer. '_There is no DNA on record anywhere. Spiderman has had no previous arrest records in any country and neither has anybody in his family.'_

"Good for him," Stark said. "I guess we'll just have to wait for him to come out of the woodwork again."

'_Shall I contact Director Fury with our findings?'_

"Not yet. He wants something solid." Stark paused for a moment. "Call Banner. And Rogers. They'll want in on this."

_'Now, sir?'_

"Why not?"

_'It's 2:38am. I doubt they'll particularly like being woken up just so you can show them a blood sample that can wait until the morning.'_

"Oh," Stark paused. "Fine, call them in the morning. Or, later in the morning. Whatever time seems reasonable."

He then went back to his scotch, examining the DNA sequence before him, breaking it into parts for a more thorough analysis.

_Just who was Spiderman?_

Scotch became coffee at some point in the morning when Steve Rogers arrived. It was early – the man didn't sleep all that much – and the sun was beginning to break over the numerous skyscrapers in the city.

"What's that?" he asked, looking at the numerous holograms projected around the room.

"DNA, human part and spider part, and then possible profile of who we're looking for," was the answer, each separate hologram being indicated in turn.

"Why are we trying to find this guy anyway?" Steve asked, frowning at the spider DNA hologram.

"Because the bosses say so," Tony answered. "No, it doesn't mean I'm suddenly taking orders. I actually want to know who this guy is."

"What do we know so far?"

"We know he's a man with spider DNA. He's somewhere between 16 and 21 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, and around six feet in height."

"Pretty much a regular guy then," Steve summarised.

Tony sighed, throwing his now-empty coffee cup into the bin. "Yep. Spider DNA is interesting though. It's fused almost perfectly with the guy. And it's not a species of spider we know of."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Tony shrugged, before frowning as an idea popped into his mind.

"Jarvis, the Lizard guy - Doctor Connors. What was his specialty?"

'_Many records indicate that he was looking into cross-species genetics. This could be verified by the toxin he released two days ago, causing men to turn into creatures like him: a human/reptile hybrid. Oscorp was one of the leading pioneers in such technology.'_

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Coincidence?" he asked.

"Looks like we're going to Oscorp," Tony said.

They found Bruce on the way out of Stark Tower – they'd decided to go without costumes, aside from the suitcase version of the Iron Man suit Tony kept in the car. The mention of the name _Tony Stark _was enough to get them in pretty much anywhere. If not then a well-placed call to Nick Fury would probably do it.

On the ride over Steve filled Bruce in on what they knew.

"Why are we even searching for this guy?" he asked. "As far as I can tell he's not a threat."

"If it's not us, then it'll be someone else," Steve reasoned. "At least this way we can do it with minimal damage."

"Why can't we just leave him alone?"

There was silence at this question, so Bruce continued. "He's not a danger to us, is he? The only reason SHIELD want him is because he's actually managed to keep his identity a secret."

"The DNA's probably a motivator too," Tony said. "Look, I don't particularly want to go looking for the kid either. I've got better things to do. But you know what'll happen if it's not us. Fury'll send in a bunch of idiots who'll get their asses handed to them."

"And if the worst comes to the worst I'm sure you'll be able to find some places where Spiderman can hide from SHIELD," Steve contributed. He trusted SHIELD a little less these days.

Bruce saw they had the same worries as him, they just weren't voicing them. They didn't want the kid to be taken into SHIELD, but they saw no other way out. At least if they were the ones to do the finding they'd be able to do something about it.

"Alright, so why are we going to Oscorp?" he asked eventually.

"The Lizard guy, Doctor Connors," Steve said. "He apparently pioneered in cross-species genetics. It's too much of a coincidence not to investigate."

"And I wanna check out the competition," Tony said. "Oscorp have gotten powerful over the years."

_**A/N: We get the good stuff in the next chapter I swear.**_

_**Also, thanks to Marz1 for the help on the DNA bit.**_


	3. Chapter 3

They got to the right floors quite easily – the semi-destroyed offices once occupied by Connors and his research team were now derelict. And plus the people were slightly intimidated by Stark and his companions, especially considering he insisted on bringing the suitcase that contained his suit with them.

The labs were a wreck, evidence of the Lizard's rampage still visible.

"What was he trying to get?" Steve asked.

"Something to disperse his toxin," Tony answered. "The stuff that got released into the sky was an antidote but beforehand he'd primed a Ganali device with his Lizard DNA. Spiderman managed to get the antidote up there in time, though. I guess they kept the Ganali device here."

"Oscorp had a Ganali device?" Bruce asked as he looked around the room.

"Which is what, exactly?" Steve asked.

"The idea was to disperse aerated inoculations to disease. An entire city in a week, maybe," Tony said, before pausing. "Stark Industries were looking to try and use it as a weapon though. Yknow, release it over an enemy camp or something. That all stopped though," he added, almost as if to convince himself that his company was no longer making weapons.

"So, where did the antidote come from? Connors obviously didn't make it," Steve said.

"Why do you think that?" Tony asked.

"The guy was planning to release his toxin across the city. He even managed it a couple of times. Why would you need to create an antidote?"

"Fair point," Tony said, stepping to one of the still-intact computers. "Let's see who was making an antidote then."

The original data had been wiped, but the server's backup was no match for the high-tech gadgetry that Tony had brought with him. The computer told him that the access card that had enabled the creation of the antidote had been used by a Miss Gwen Stacy, assistant to Doctor Connors.

"Looks like we're paying her a visit," Bruce said.

"I recognise the name," Steve said suddenly, "But I can't place where."

Anything he was about to say was cut off by a commotion from the corridor outside. Suddenly, a few scientists entered the room, moving to the large windows on one side, attempting to peer out.

"Where's the fire?" Tony asked, quickly copying some data from Oscorp's system – stuff they needed, and some extras so he could see exactly what the competition were doing.

"A group of guys with machine guns have taken over a bank a few streets away. Taken a load of hostages," one said. "We heard Spiderman was coming."

The three looked at each other, before Tony moved into action, kicking a button on his case and suiting up. The three scientists by the window managed to stop their vigil for a moment to gape in amazement.

"Show off," Steve muttered, as the helmet folded into place.

"There he is!" one of the scientists called, pointing.

It was at that moment they all caught their first glimpse of Spiderman in person. He was thin, lithe, and extremely acrobatic, flipping and twisting between firing shots of webbing. He moved quickly too, perfectly at ease in the high reaches of the city environment, sometimes swooping low over queues of traffic.

"Wow," Bruce said, as the figure passed the Oscorp building. "He's got more style than you, Tony."

"We'll see about that," Tony said, before handing two headsets to Steve and Bruce, as well as a handheld screen. "You'll be able to see what I see," he told them. "Steve, you keep watch on here, Bruce, you keep looking through here for stuff that'll help. Jarvis, call up police scanners, tell me where it is," he added, before leaping out one of the broken windows, thrusters engaging as soon as he was clear of the building.

_'It is four streets away. The police are currently keeping it quiet – a silent alarm was set off ten minutes ago. It appears Oscorp and Spiderman both have access to police radio frequencies.'_

"Can you patch us through to one?" Tony asked.

In response, a hash of static came over the airwaves, followed by an authoritative voice.

_'-all units, be advised, Spiderman has been sighted in the area. You are reminded that we have orders to arrest him on sight, even if he is helping us out.'_

"Wow, they're not messing about with this kid," Tony remarked, coming to a hover above the bank. "I don't see him anywhere. Do you think he's already inside?"

"If he is, then he didn't go through the door," Steve said. "The cops would've spotted him. Look on the roof," he said.

Tony lifted himself higher, hovering over the roof of the bank. The police radios squawked in his ear.

_'-did you see that? I think that's Iron Man-'_

_'-What the hell is he doing here? Since when does he stop bank robberies?'_

_'-Do you think he's looking for the spider?-'_

_'-Whatever he's doing, he better not destroy the city again. Couldn't get power for weeks-'_

"They really like you," Bruce commented, before the radios continued.

_'-as long as they don't let that green guy loose again I don't care. You never know what side he's on half the time. Do we have a way to contact him, or are we just gonna leave him to it?'_

_'-Bastard can probably hear us now, knowing the technology Stark Industries has-'_

"They're quite perceptive, aren't they?" Steve asked, as Tony focused his scanners on the rooftop, ignoring the police chatter.

"What am I looking for?" he asked.

"A way in," Steve said. "Check man-sized vents and stuff."

"Are you seriously saying that a place as high security as a _bank _would have-"

Tony cut off as his scanners zoomed in on a vent. It had been opened. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. "I'm glad I don't bank here."

He then lifted a little higher, before coming to land on a nearby rooftop, within sight of the bank.

"Jarvis, have the police gotten into the security cameras yet?" he asked.

_'No, sir, the system is practically impenetrable. Fortunately, it was designed by Stark Industries.'_

Tony grinned. "Well then, let's see what's going on, shall we?"

A screen appeared in front of Tony, accessing through several systems until it showed the four monitors that covered the main area of the bank, and the one behind the desks. There were five men. Three were covering a huddled group of civilians with very imposing looking weaponry. If Tony wasn't wearing his armour he wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of it. The other two were looting cash registers.

"Well, I don't see him," Tony said. "Jarvis, can you get thermal imaging?"

_'No,' _the smooth voice of his computer-slash-butler replied. _'They probably thought they wouldn't need it, considering each surface is covered by a camera or motion sensor.'_

It was at that moment that Spiderman appeared in the view of one of the cameras. Slowly and smoothly, he descended into view behind one of the armed gunmen – one at the back, so as not to be seen by the others. Ever so slowly, he aligned himself behind the man, upside-down, his head the same level as the gunman's.

Then he tapped the man on the head with his foot.

It was like something out of a cartoon. The man turned, barely having time to react before he was grabbed, gagged, tied, and pulled up towards the ceiling in a matter of seconds. The guy didn't even have a chance to make a proper sound, just a muffled cry as the webbing covered his mouth.

"Wow," Tony said. "He's good. Do we know what his webbing stuff is made from?"

"No. Maybe you should grab a sample," Bruce said.

The other two gunmen had turned at the stifled noise to discover their compatriot gone.

"What the hell?" one of them said, before calling out. "Is JT back there with you guys?"

One of the men looting the cash registers looked up. "He was just there!"

He pointed to the spot 'JT' had last occupied.

"What the hell?" the first speaker repeated. "JT! Where the hells are you?" he called.

He was answered by a muffled scream, out of view of the camera. Ever so slowly, the two armed men looked up.

"Oh God, he's on the _ceiling!_" one of them shouted, instantly starting to panic. "That spider-freak's here!"

"He stuck him to the ceiling?" Steve asked. "Nice."

The calmer gunman turned to the other. "Gus! Shut up! Hold it together man. We've got guns. If we see him, we shoot him!"

He turned to the civilians huddled on the floor. "Did any of you see him?"

He was answered by vigorous shakes of the head, none of them daring to look up.

On another monitor, Spiderman descended from the ceiling again, and repeated exactly the same manoeuvre on one of the men looting the cash.

It took almost ten seconds for the other man to notice.

"Oh crap!" a voice from the other room yelled. "Danny's gone!"

There was a pause, before the voice called again. "He's on the ceiling!"

"I say we get out of here," Gus said. "Before we get stuck up there too."

_"Awh, but we haven't been introduced yet!" _a voice called. _"I've only just said hi to your friends here! And the ceiling isn't so bad. Hell of a lot cleaner than the floor."_

"Where are you?" the other cash-looter shouted, looking wildly at the ceiling.

"He's definitely got style," Tony commented, as laughter echoed around the room.

_"All right, fine, I'm coming. Don't shoot me though. Or, try to. I doubt you'd hit me."_

The red and blue figure dropped from the ceiling, landing in a crouch. He straightened, before stretching his hand out. "Hi, I'm Spiderman."

He didn't get to say anything else, however, as one of the men raised his gun and fired.

The kid was fast, almost superhuman with his reflexes. _Probably the spider DNA, _Tony thought, as he twisted out of the way and then snatched the gun out of the guy's hand with some webbing.

"Seriously?" he asked. "I tell you what's going to happen and you shoot at me anyway." With a swift movement, he ejected the rounds from the gun and tossed it aside, before looking at the other armed man. "You're seriously thinking of trying it, aren't you?" he asked. "My God, are you really that stupid?"

He moved, hand flicking out and firing a shot of webbing, knocking the gun clean out of the man's hands, sending it clattering across the floor.

It was at that point that the third man thought he'd try his luck. He'd been behind Spiderman, and had attempted to sneak up unseen, before throwing a punch that would have connected with the back of the guy's head.

_Something definitely superhuman in those reflexes, _Tony thought as the punch was easily dodged, the man grabbed and thrown at his friends. To finish it off, they all received a few hits of webbing, sending them crashing to the floor.

"I swear you guys make this too easy for me," he said, before binding them together with the webbing. "Don't forget to tell the cops your buddies are on the ceiling. I'm not sure how well you can breathe through this stuff."

He turned to the civilians, who were still crouched on the floor, looking at him with expressions mingling from shock to amusement.

"So, now that's over, I hope you all have a great day."

He then fired his webbing at the ceiling again, disappearing out from the camera's sight. Moments later, the police stormed the building, alerted by the gunshots. They all stopped and gaped at what they found inside.

"You know, I like this kid," Steve said.

"He's growing on me, too," Bruce commented, before they heard a sharp intake of breath over the headset. "Wow."

"Did you find something?" Steve asked.

"_Something _doesn't cover it. I just found an entire room populated with spiders."

"What for?" Tony asked.

"It looks like they're making some sort of cable. To be honest, I'm not sure. I'm a physicist, not a biologist."

"Can you snag a couple of the spiders?" Tony asked.

"I can try," was the answer.

It was at that moment that Spiderman emerged from the rooftop vent, before quickly webbing away through the clustered buildings.

"Looks like I'm moving out," Tony said. "Tell me how you get on. Steve, is he coming past you?"

There was a pause. "I don't think so; he probably went the other way."

Tony nodded to himself, before launching into the air again, high above the rooftops.

"On your left," Steve said, spotting him first.

"Got him," Tony said, descending, attempting to keep out of sight. It wasn't like being on a public street, though; he couldn't exactly 'blend in' fifteen storeys up. He resorted to flying high above the guy, keeping focused on him with a zoom.

It worked well, until Spiderman web-zipped into a tunnel of some sort.

"Crap," Tony muttered, stopping to hover for a moment. "Do I follow him? I don't know where it leads out. Jarvis?"

_'Records show it leads into a network of tunnels. If you want my opinion I would suggest you follow him, otherwise you might lose him and Director Fury will probably put you under house arrest again.'_

"Follow him," Steve said. "It doesn't look as though he's seen you, so you can probably catch up with him without being noticed. Just don't... scare him."

"Why is it you people assume I'm going to scare everyone I meet?" Tony grumbled as he soared towards the tunnel.

"I think the giant armoured suit is a _bit_ intimidating," Bruce said. "I managed to get two of the spiders. But seeing as we don't know anything about them, I was a bit wary to just pick them up. So two will have to suffice."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Steve said as Bruce joined him by the monitor, and they watched Tony's progress through the tunnel. He was flying at quite a high speed, his scanners having not picked up Spiderman.

"Were there any side tunnels he could have taken?" Steve asked.

"I didn't see any," Tony said, flipping over to check behind him for a moment.

At that moment, he crashed into a spider's web that branched across the entire tunnel.

_**A/N: Aww yiss we get Spiderman awesomeness. **_


	4. Chapter 4

Whatever the webbing Spiderman used was made of, it was _strong, _managing to stop the forward momentum of the Iron Man suit entirely. Instantly becoming tangled in the strong and sticky fibre, Tony barely had a chance to react before his suit was hit with more shots of webbing, pinning him to the web.

_"'Come into my parlour,' said the Spider to the Fly,"_ a voice said from nearby, before Spiderman descended into view. "So, I finally get to meet Iron Man," he said conversationally. "Did you honestly think you were following me without being seen? Most of the buildings have _mirrored _windows. And you make a hell of a lot of noise."

He rapped on the helmet with a knuckle. "Are you gonna say anything or just look at me?"

"Wow, he managed to snag you," Steve said, as he and Bruce tried to keep straight faces. Tony ignored them, instead retracting his helmet.

"What the hell is this stuff anyway?" he asked, tugging on his restraint. He could probably have blasted it apart if he'd been at the right angle, but he'd been pinned so his hands were pointing at parts of his body. He'd blow the suit apart if he wasn't careful.

"Oh, you know, something I designed," was the sly answer, as Spiderman dropped to the floor in front of him. Tony got the impression that behind his mask the kid was grinning. "_Tony Stark,_" he said. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you stalking me?"

Tony didn't answer straight away, considering his answer.

"You know, I don't like talking to people I don't know. I showed you my face. Can't you show me yours? Or is it too ugly?"

"Brilliant," Bruce muttered sarcastically into his headset.

"Unlike you, I've got enough self-control to actually want to keep my identity a secret," was the retort. "You see, not everyone was born a billionaire. I actually have a life to lead."

"There are people wanting to know who you are," Tony said, subtly testing one of the restraints again.

"Who? You and the rest of your little superhero team? Wanting to send out a membership card?"

"Actually, no," Tony replied. "People with more power than me. The ones who set the team up."

There was silence at this.

"What, you thought we all just magically found each other? Kid, they want you. And they _will _get you, whether you come in quietly or go down fighting. The reason I'm following you is because we're trying to do this in a way that doesn't end with too many casualties."

"All right then, so who is this big bad organisation that wants me?"

Tony could tell Spiderman was curious, even without seeing his face.

"Let me out and I'll tell you," he offered, earning a disbelieving laugh.

"You really think I'm just going to let you out? I think you look quite great there. Do you like my web?"

"Yeah, it's great," Tony muttered, before he sighed. "Fine. They're called SHIELD. Don't ask me what it stands for, I can't remember, and frankly I don't care to. They're a pain in my ass. But they are good at what they do, and they're not half bad at keeping secrets – unless I'm around. And sometimes they actually help."

"Really? Yet they're sending you to try and convince me to- what? Give up my identity and join your boy band?"

"You know, I said pretty much the same thing."

Tony got the impression the kid was raising an eyebrow, so he continued.

"One thing though, it's probably better if you come in now and get it over with. They won't stop. They'll just keep sending different groups. If I were you, I'd be _glad _that my team's the first one they chose to send. Like they said, it'll cause fewer casualties. An ordinary soldier or cop would just get pulverized by you, right?"

"Only if they were asking for it," Spiderman reasoned. "I'm not bulletproof, yet they all seem to think I am. I swear nearly every cop shoots first before asking questions. _Or _saying thank you. I mean, I _did _stop New York from being destroyed. And where were you guys when this happened?"

The question was direct and short. He struggled for an answer.

"We would've come if it'd gotten too... heated," he said eventually.

"Yeah, too late," was the reply. "Perhaps if you _had _come then the police chief wouldn't have died."

"_That's _where I recognise the name," Steve said in Tony's ear. "The policeman who died on the rooftop of Oscorp was a Captain Stacy."

Tony frowned a little at this piece of knowledge, but didn't give anything away.

"Still, the point is, they're interested in you," he said, moving swiftly away from the subject. "And I'm sure as hell not gonna stop because you've managed to wrap me in some string. Look, this is actually me _asking_ you to make this easy on me for once."

"What, and you don't normally ask?" Spiderman questioned. "Or you don't have to?"

"One or the other. Usually a mixture of both," was the honest reply, a smirk on Tony's face as he said it.

"Wow, are you honestly that smug all the time? How do the rest of your team stand you?"

"I _really _like this kid," Steve said.

Tony said nothing in reply.

"Final chance. Come in now, or we'll have to do this the hard way."

Spiderman was silent for a moment.

"...Do you want me to start quaking? Will it give you a better effect? You don't do threatening very well, you know. I've seen mice more threatening."

Tony got the impression the kid was grinning again, before he turned and made his way to a nearby access hatch in the tunnel's ceiling – the one he'd hidden when waiting for Tony.

"I am _not _going to become an errand boy for some government group who wants to make me their new toy. If I had been a regular person you wouldn't have cared about me. One small difference and suddenly I'm like the hot chick at school. Well, sorry, but this chick has other plans."

With that, he web-zipped into the access hatch, and left.

"He's good," Bruce commented, as Tony attempted to break out of the bonds. He resorted to engaging his thrusters and burning through the strands below him, dropping to the floor with a loud – and a very undignified – clang.

"He's annoying, that's what," Tony said, re-engaging the helmet and pushing through the narrow access hatch, scraping the armour along the sides.

"I don't know, he raised quite a good point, I thought," Bruce said. "If he'd been a regular kid we wouldn't have cared about him. And are we sure SHIELD _isn't _planning on using him for... other purposes?"

The question was left hanging as Tony soared into the air again, looking round for Spiderman. It was no use, though, the kid had disappeared.

"What's our plan now?" he asked, heading back to Oscorp tower.

"I think we should go visit Miss Stacy," Steve said.

"Do we have an address?"

"We don't need one," Steve answered. "She goes to Midtown Science and its just gone 9:00. She'll be there."

"All right, cool," Tony said, flying through the hole in the window he'd created beforehand, landing (somewhat) neatly in the middle of the room. He then disassembled the Iron Man suit; it reverted back to its suitcase form, although it had some difficulty due to the webbing still stuck to it. Tony decided he'd analyse it later, when they got back to Stark Tower. "Let's go see what she has to say for herself."

**_A/N: I got such nice reviews last night, thanks guys :3 You know how to make a girl feel good. Hopefully that'll incite me to write some more. For now, enjoy!_**


	5. Chapter 5

The ride to the school was relatively short – most people recognised Tony's car due to his personalised licence plate and got out of the way pretty fast. While in the car, Bruce investigated a strand of the webbing that had been stuck to the suit.

"It's a little like that cable those spiders were making in the Oscorp building," he said. "Looks like it's had a little extra engineering to suit the guy. He's smart, that's one thing."

"Great," Tony muttered.

"What, still sore because he managed to trap you in a giant web?" Steve asked, trying to hide his smile.

"I'd like to see you do better," was the retort.

Any further argument was cut off by their arrival at the school. It was now 10:00am, so it was busy with the movements of many students going to their classes.

Their next issue was how to get into the school. As famous as The Avengers were, the school had a lot of policies on just letting people in. They were also tried of people coming to investigate the destruction the Lizard had wrought on the school – another coincidence that Tony, Steve and Bruce didn't like.

In the end, however, they didn't need to get into the school as such, as Miss Stacy entered the office.

Tony quickly moved away from the front desk while Steve smiled apologetically at the annoyed receptionist.

"Uh, Miss Stacy?" he called, quickly stopping in front of her. "We'd like a word with you."

Gwen Stacy looked Tony up and down, clearly knowing who he was, but clearly not impressed. "If you're looking to hire me, then I'm sorry, but I still work at Oscorp."

"We're not," Bruce cut in, subtly moving them to a more private part of the reception. Steve joined them, giving the girl a comforting smile. "We need to ask you about the antidote you made for Spiderman."

If the girl was alarmed, she didn't show it much. Just a tiny frown. "I wiped the data," she said, before suddenly realising. "The backup. All right, what about it?"

"Well clearly you made it for Spiderman," Tony said. "So you must be in contact with him."

"And...?" the girl was good at evading their questions.

"We want to talk to him."

"And you think I'm in contact with him?" she asked.

"Well, you did make the antidote for him," Bruce said. "He had to at least speak to you in order to do so."

"I was in the lab," the girl sighed. "He swings in, tells me what's going on, and then tells me to look up the antidote under a filename. I didn't really question it, considering the Lizard was tearing up the building at that moment. I just made it, then got the hell out of there and gave it to my dad."

Her voice broke slightly at the mention of her father, but she maintained her calm exterior.

"So the Lizard coming to attack here was a coincidence?" Tony asked. "The guy seems to be following you everywhere."

"I was Doctor Connors' lead intern. Maybe he just likes me," she answered sharply.

It was apparent that the girl either was telling the truth, or she was a better liar than Tony.

They didn't get to question her further however, as a loud commotion outside the office drew their attention. A large group of kids were gathered a short distance from the front doors in a large circle. Some of them were shouting, the majority were just watching – what, they couldn't see, though.

Steve was the first to recognise the signs. As the three (and Gwen) left the office to see what was going on, he strode forward, pushing through the circle.

As such, he was there just as a somewhat mean-looking kid land a kick on another, who was huddled on the floor in a defensive position.

"Flash mighta laid off on ya, but that don't mean _I _won't," he snarled, about to wind up for another kick, when Steve grabbed him by the back of the jacket, pulling him backwards. The crowd parted instantly, meaning the kid landed on the floor, glaring up at Steve.

If the crowd had been quiet before, now you could hear a pin drop a few _miles _away.

The kid stood up, fast, already angry. "Just 'coz you're an adult don't mean you can't get beat up," he snarled.

Steve (and to a lesser extent, Tony and Bruce, who were stood just behind him) was unimpressed.

"You know, when I was a kid, I got beaten up in an alley about a block from here," he said. "Back then, I would have stood and taken every punch you would have thrown at me."

He paused for a moment, as someone in the group whispered _"Isn't he Captain America?"_

"I don't like guys like you," Steve said shortly. "Bullies like you. I joined the army because I didn't like bullies. And while back then I would have taken your punches, now I'm fully capable of throwing my own. And you wouldn't like my punches."

The bully took the hint, and stormed away, muttering. He was followed by a couple of his cronies. The crowd were still staring at Steve, and the pair stood behind him.

_"Holy crap, that's Iron Man."_

_"What the hell are they doing here?"_

_"Come on, let's get outta here."_

The crowd dispersed quickly, their mutters dying away with them. The boy who'd been on the receiving end of the bully's kicks was helped up by Gwen. She immediately began reprimanding him, which seemed to hurt him more than the physical injury he'd just incurred.

"I've told you this before: you're dumb. You may be a pretty smart kid, but you're still dumb."

He offered her a weak smile in return, bending and picking up a camera – one of the old film ones. He inspected it for a moment, before sighing. The lens had been shattered.

Stowing the camera in a bag that had been dropped on the floor beside him, he turned to face Steve.

"Thanks," he said, a bruise already forming on his jaw. "That won't really stop him, though."

"Why was he beating you anyway?" Tony asked, stepping forward and examining the kid. He was tall for his age, with brown hair and brown eyes. It also looked as though he got kicked around quite a lot – there was a just-fading bruise around one of his eyes and they could see the hint of more on his neck.

In response, he shrugged. "He was laying into someone else. I told him to put a stop to it."

"It's not the first time he's done it, the idiot," Gwen muttered. She turned back to Steve, Tony and Bruce. "Do you have any more questions for me?" she asked. "Or can I take my boyfriend to the nurse?"

"Questions?" the boy asked, at the same time Tony said "Boyfriend?"

There was a pause at this, before the Gwen spoke up. "This is Peter, my boyfriend," she said. "What, did you expect me to be hooking up with Spiderman or something?"

"Spiderman?" Peter frowned, looking the three over. "Why are you guys asking her about Spiderman?"

"We're... keen to find out about him," Steve said.

"Wanting to recruit him to your club?" the kid asked, earning him a sharp look from Gwen, who clearly thought he shouldn't be talking to them.

"Something like that," Bruce said smoothly. "Although we're kinda having a hard time tracking him down."

He paused as Tony glared at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise we were keeping this a secret."

"Just, don't tell anyone," Steve said to the pair, cutting the conversation short. "And if that guy comes back," he added to Peter, "let me know." He handed the kid a card with his phone number on.

"Uh, thanks," was the reply. They could all tell that the kid would never call Steve. He had to fight his own battles. But the reassurance was there.

"If that's all," Gwen said sharply, "I would like to get my boyfriend to the nurse."

"All right, but if you can think of anything that'll help us, call the number," Bruce said.

As the pair walked away, Tony spoke, quiet enough to be heard by the other two.

"She is _never _going to help us."

"She's definitely hiding something about Spiderman, but I don't know what. I was pulling the boyfriend angle, but that-"

"-went out the window when she mentioned this Peter kid."

"What if the kid's Spiderman?" Steve asked.

"With the beating he just took?" Tony asked.

"I guess not," Steve finished.

_**A/N: I couldn't resist. Once again thanks for the reviews and suchlike, I didn't think this would get so popular...**_


	6. Chapter 6

At Stark Tower, Tony was getting severely annoyed. Spiderman's webbing was stuck _everywhere _on his Iron Man suit.

"I swear to god, next time I see that kid I'm shooting those things off his wrists," he grumbled, as he finally managed to prize another strand off.

"Personally, I think it's quite ingenious," Bruce said. "He takes a highly strong substance – the Oscorp biocable – and then adapts it for his own use. This stuff could probably support a plane if he wanted it to."

"Let's hope not," Steve said from a corner of the room – he didn't know how half of the equipment in the room worked, so he'd been delegated the task of looking through Oscorp's files for any information they might need. He stood up and stretched. "I'm going to get a coffee," he announced, making his way to the door. "You guys want one?"

"As long as it's caffeinated and large, I don't care," Tony said.

"Black, decaf," Bruce said. "Thanks."

"How're you getting on with those spiders?" Tony asked, once Steve had left.

"Well, I've managed to isolate their DNA. They're definitely the contributors to Spiderman's DNA structure," Bruce said. "The question is, how did they transfer the DNA? How did the spiders even get near this guy? He had to have been within the Oscorp building _at least."_

"How did Connors get his lizard-y stuff?" Tony asked.

"Injection, by the reports. But there are no traces of a spider hybrid test," Bruce said. "I think Spiderman was created purely by accident."

There was silence for a moment.

"Wow," was all Tony said in the end.

"You're telling me," Bruce said, going back to the spider he was analysing. He paused, frowning for a second.

"...We may have a problem," he said slowly.

"What sort of problem?"

"A problem in which one of the spiders has gone missing, and I don't know if it's poisonous or not."

"Oh, great," Tony muttered. "Jarvis, you seen a spider round here?" he asked the ceiling.

_'There is a spider currently in a container approximately a foot to the right of Dr Banner's right arm,' _the computer supplied, earning an eye-roll from Tony.

"Not _that _one," he complained, "There was another!"

_'My apologies,' _was the reply, before Bruce suddenly let out a short gasp of pain.

"Son of a-"he muttered, before going very, very still.

"Bruce?" Tony asked, stilling as well. "What's up?"

"Get out."

Bruce's tone was strained and anxious, like he was having trouble keeping himself in check. It slowly dawned on Tony what might be occurring.

"Bruce..." he said again, slower, moving closer to the man. "Talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what's going on!"

Bruce had started to quiver by now, and when Tony placed a hand on his arm, he lashed out, sending the man crashing into a worktop with a force that belied his size.

The last thing Tony heard before he blacked out was a deep, resounding _roar_.

* * *

Apparently all it took for everything to go wrong was for Steve to be out of the building for _five minutes. _Almost as soon as he exited the coffee shop, he was alerted by a crash that seemed to shake the floor itself.

The coffees he'd been holding were dropped to the floor, almost scalding a nearby patron. Steve barely noticed as he sprinted towards Stark Tower, eyes on the monstrous green creature that had just smashed its way out of one of the upper levels.

"Is that the Hulk?" he heard someone shout, as a nearby building shook with the impact.

Then the Hulk landed on the sidewalk, roaring and smashing in equal measure. Steve knew if he couldn't get him calmed down and away people were going to get hurt. This wasn't the same Hulk who'd fought with them the day the Chitauri attacked. This was the Hulk that had been unleashed on the Helicarrier, the one not controlled by Bruce Banner.

But somewhere inside the huge green mess of emotions, Bruce Banner was trying to fight his way out.

He grabbed a serving tray off a nearby table, scattering a sugar bowl onto the floor, and raced towards the Hulk. It wasn't his shield, but considering said shield was fifty or so floors up in Stark Tower, it would have to do.

_"Hey!" _he yelled, throwing the tray with pinpoint accuracy, bouncing it off the Hulk's head.

It had the desired effect, giving people a few precious seconds to escape the area. It also drew the Hulk's attention to Steve, which was either very good or very bad, considering the position you were in.

"Come on Banner, fight it!" he yelled, as the Hulk advanced towards him. "I know you can do this!"

He dived out of the way, just as a large green fist connected with the table next to him, crushing it instantly.

He needed to get the Hulk out of the area. He needed to get Banner back. No easy task, considering right now he was stuck on the ground with no help. _Speaking of help._

He pulled out his cellphone, hitting the speed dial for Tony's number. No answer.

Dodging another blow from the Hulk, he threw a glass to keep his attention focused. This one clipped the Hulk on the ear, shattering instantly.

The thing _roared _as Steve tried again, before he summarised that the Hulk had probably knocked Tony out – or killed him.

_Focus on the positives, Rogers,_ he thought, as the creature came thundering towards him again. _Where's Thor when you need him?_

He was in the middle of the street, in the _middle _of Manhattan, with no help and he was running out of options.

Until a voice rang out high above him.

"_Incoming!_"

Steve almost didn't believe it, as a red and blue figure swung in, landing a two-footed kick on the side of the Hulk's head.

It roared again, distracted by this new flying menace. Well, swinging menace.

"Hey!" Steve yelled, trying to get Spiderman's attention. Even if they did need to get the kid onside, Steve was practical enough to know this was _not _the time to do the recruitment speech. Right now he needed this vigilante's help.

The figure landed next to Steve. "Heya Spangles," he said. "I can call you Spangles, right? Speaking of, where's the suit?" he asked, before ducking a thrown dustbin. "Wow, he's angry."

"That's the problem," Steve answered. "We need to get him away from here, and _calm him down. _I can't do that, though, and Stark's off-radar."

"So what you're saying is that you need my help?"

The kid reminded him of Tony, a little. The smug tone of voice probably did it.

"Yes! Otherwise people are going to get hurt!"

"All right then," Spiderman sighed, before muttering, "_Why is it always the giant green creatures?"_

He then jumped out of the way, right before the Hulk's fist smashed down nearby.

"Hey, Captain Spangles!" Spiderman called from the air. "Get on the radios and get people out of the way or something. I'm gonna take him south!"

He then proceeded to fire a bolt of webbing at the Hulk's face, practically covering an eye. That _definitely _got his attention.

"Hey!" he called to the creature. "You wanna play? Come get me!"

With that, he zipped away, taking the Hulk roaring after him.

_**A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and suchlike! You guys are the best. I'm attempting to write ahead of this fic, so I have the next bit worked out, but updates might be slower as I'm slowly but surely catching up with myself.**_


	7. Chapter 7

When Bruce Banner awoke, it took him a moment to figure out his surroundings. Usually when he woke up after being sidelined by the Hulk he wasn't pinned to the wall by a giant web.

"What the-?" he muttered, trying to move his arm. The stuff was strong, but it had obviously been used when he was a much larger size, so he had some room to move.

"Hey, you're awake!" a voice called from somewhere near the ceiling. Bruce craned his neck just in time to see Spiderman lowering himself down on a strand of webbing. "Hold still for a second while I cut you out."

"Right," Bruce said. "How come you're the one cutting me out of a wall?"

"Instead of Captain Spangles or the Incredible Flying Sparkplug?" he asked, earning a smile from Bruce. "Well, the Captain was throwing condiments at you when I arrived, and I don't know where my stalker was. There was a big hole in the tower though."

As he talked, he cut through the strands of webbing, before slowly pulling Bruce free.

"I, uh, put some clothes down there for you," he said, a little awkwardly, adjusting his grip slightly as he lowered Bruce to the floor, near the clothes. He then moved to the doorway, where Bruce noticed they were overlooking the river.

"Where are we?" he asked, also noting the sun was now setting. He'd been out for some hours then.

"Warehouse north of Battery Park," was the answer. "I also brought some food. I didn't know whether you'd be hungry or not."

"You seem to have some experience with things like this."

"Not really," Spiderman answered. "But I saw what Connors was like after _he _changed back and I made an educated guess. I mean, you both went huge and green and angry."

"Fair point," Bruce said, walking to stand next to the kid. "I didn't do too much damage, did I?"

"Nah, the worst was to the tower. Which probably deserves it. Thing looks like a giant llama."

There was silence for a moment as Bruce picked up a bottle of water that had been placed on the floor. Then Spiderman spoke up, most probably asking a question that had been on his mind since he first saw the Hulk.

"So what was it then?" he asked. "Crossed DNA or something else entirely?"

"Something else entirely," Bruce said, but didn't elaborate. The kid seemed to understand, and nodded, before sitting down on the stone steps outside the large warehouse doors.

"You alright?" Bruce asked, observing that he was moving somewhat gingerly.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," was the reply. "Your alter ego has a heck of a backhand though."

"Oh," Bruce realised, before sitting down next to him. "Sorry."

"Like I said, I'll be fine. Can't be a superhero without taking a few knocks, right?"

Silence reigned again for a short while, before the kid asked another question. Evidently he was curious.

"OK, so what caused you to... turn?" he asked, struggling for the right words. "I mean, you don't seem like the mad scientist type, and by the looks of things your alter ego isn't really someone you like to let loose."

Bruce frowned, trying to remember what had caused the 'other guy' to emerge. He then reached up, running his hand over the back of his neck, before his fingers came into contact with a string of some sort. When he pulled it, he was rewarded with a stinging pain in the back of his neck, and then held the thread up, showing the (now dead) spider hanging off it.

"This did," he said.

Although he couldn't see behind Spiderman's mask, he could see that the kid was shocked. Silently, he held out his hand, taking the spider from him. Examining it, he finally spoke.

"Looks like somebody's been snooping around Oscorp."

"Like you did?" Bruce asked. "We, uh, got your DNA," he explained. "We know that these spiders... contributed."

"Wow, you guys are certainly thorough. Let's just say I had my reasons for snooping," he said. Bruce recognised the kid wanted to keep his secrets. He certainly wasn't going to press. "You're not sticking to things though, are you?" he asked suddenly. Bruce shook his head slowly.

"I don't think so," he replied. "I guess that's why I reacted – the other guy fought off whatever was trying to get into my system."

Spiderman nodded in response, looking away for a moment, out across the water.

"Tell me: why are the Avengers so interested in me all of a sudden?" he asked, changing the subject rapidly. "Or whoever it was Stark was on about."

"In short, because you're different," Bruce said. "SHIELD aren't so bad, and I'll admit Stark can be a jerk sometimes, but you should probably think about their... proposition. Before it turns into a threat. Because – trust me – they won't stop."

"I don't understand why they can't just leave me alone. I mean, they can _see _I'm on their side."

"I know the feeling," Bruce said understandingly, before shrugging. "It's not how they work, though. They need to know you're on side, and they need to know what you can do. They don't back down, ever. Although Tony was right – they're granting you a favour by making us try and find you out."

"'Making you'?" Spiderman quoted, before he said, "I'm surprised you haven't tried to rip my mask off yet."

"Nobody wants to," Bruce said. "Not even Stark. Maybe if you came in we could do it with you keeping your identity."

"Do you believe that would work?"

Bruce said nothing for a moment, before shrugging. "To be honest, I don't know anymore. I can hope, though."

For a while, nothing was said, before Spiderman nodded, standing up. He appeared to come to a decision. "All right then, let's get you back to Sparky and Spangles."

Bruce stood also, frowning. "How?" he asked. "Do you have a car or something I can borrow?"

Spiderman held back a laugh at that. "You think I can drive? In this city?"

"Fair point," Bruce said. "Are you even old enough to learn?"

He got no answer at that, instead Spiderman peered at the buildings around him. "I could do that," he said eventually.

"Do what?" Bruce asked, becoming a little worried.

Spiderman turned to face him. "What causes you to change?" he asked. "Like, under normal circumstances. Do you have to force it or does it just... happen every so often."

Bruce's frown deepened. "Usually, it's heightened emotions. Anger, fear, that sort of thing," he said eventually. "I'm usually pretty good at keeping a lid on it though."

"So, say if you went on a rollercoaster. Would you be able to handle it?"

"Probably. Where is this going, exactly?"

Bruce couldn't tell, but he got the impression Spiderman was grinning underneath his mask. "Well, we gotta get you home some way. And I figure that maybe if _I _take you, your bosses could see it as a gesture of goodwill and perhaps leave me alone in return."

Bruce had to admire the kid's tenacity. Then he figured out what he was getting at.

"Wait, you're offering to carry me across New York?"

"It won't be bridal style, if that's what you're worrying about," was the reply. "And I don't have the money for the bus or train. And trust me, travelling the way I do is an experience you're not gonna forget."

Bruce was silent for a moment, before he shook his head, breaking into a small smile. "All right then," he said. "We'll travel your way."

_**A/N: Here, have an update. I don't know when the next update will be. Hopefully not too long, I just need to get the next scene worked out.**_  
_**Once again, thank you all for the wonderful reviews and favourites. I had no idea it would be so popular and it's so heartwarming to think that people actually want to read the stuff I've written.**_


	8. Chapter 8

"You OK back there?" Spiderman yelled as they swooped over some traffic. Bruce was clinging to his shoulders, attached to Spiderman's back by ropes made from the webbing from his wrist shooters. He was glad he knew the science behind the ropes; otherwise he would have been worried that they wouldn't have held him.

"I'm fine!" he replied. "Although the drops are a little hairy."

"Comes with the territory!"

They were nearing Stark Tower – Bruce could see it if he peered over Spiderman's shoulder. From here, it looked as though the only damage had been done to _one _of the floors, less than when he'd last been there as his alter ego. The tower was lit up though, so he took that as a promising sign.

"I'm gonna put you down on the roof!" Spiderman called. "Brace yourself!"

They dropped down again, further than before, as Spiderman then fired a bolt of webbing at a nearby crane, and pulled. The sheer force of their swing made the crane shift a little, but soon they were swooping upwards, coming to land neatly on the helipad.

"Okay, now tell me that was awesome," he said. "Told you it'd be an experience you wouldn't forget."

Bruce was about to answer, before a noise alerted them both.

"Dr Banner. Good to see you back."

A man stepped out onto the helipad, flanked on either side by Tony and Steve. His one eye stared impassively at Spiderman.

"All right then, who are you?" Spiderman asked, not fazed by Nick Fury at all. "No, don't tell me, you're the guy who's running the show."

"Director Fury of SHIELD," he said. "I'm running _all _the shows."

"Even Broadway?" Spiderman snickered, earning a smile from everyone except Fury. "All right, well I'm going to untie the good doctor from my back," he said. "You gonna let me do that before you try and make a grab for me?"

He quickly made short work of the webbing tying Bruce to him, and stepped back, throwing the thick strands off the side of the tower.

Bruce slowly went to join the others on the other side of the helipad.

"You alright?" he asked Tony, who was in his Iron Man armour – Steve also had his Captain America suit on.

"You gave me a huge lump on the back of my head, but I'll be fine," he said. "Although you owe me a new lab."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, before asking, "Why is Fury here?"

"Rogers called him."

Bruce turned to Steve, who looked a little uncomfortable.

"I was called in because you'd gone off the radar, and Stark was out for the count," Fury cut in. "We also managed to co-ordinate the evacuation of a few major buildings along the route Spiderman took you."

"You're welcome, by the way," Spiderman grumbled. "Well, no time like the present," he said briskly. "As I've just managed to stop New York from being destroyed – _again _– do you think you could have the good grace to leave me alone for a while?"

"It's out of my hands," Fury said, although he didn't appear to be particularly aggrieved by the fact.

"For God's- how _far _does this go up?" Spiderman asked incredulously. "Everyone I meet is following the orders of someone else, and none of you seem to have any qualms about following them."

Steve, Bruce and Tony shared an uneasy glance at this, one that didn't go unnoticed by Spiderman.

"Oh, so you did, but you decided to act on the orders anyway."

"We thought that if _we _were the ones to act on the orders, then there would be fewer casualties," Fury said. "You do have a habit of beating cops."

"They were trying to shoot me!" Spiderman practically shouted. "I don't know if any of you have noticed, but I'm basically wearing Spandex!"

"All the more reason for you to stop this running and do as we ask," Tony said. "I mean, that suit can't come cheap, right?"

"For the last time, no!" Spiderman said, before sighing, rubbing his head with a gloved hand. "Look, let me think about it or something. You guys are really pushy."

"I can't afford to give you the time," Fury stated. "As I once said to Stark, the world _doesn't_ revolve around you. I currently have other situations that need to be dealt with."

"Well, go and deal with them," Spiderman snapped, his patience evidently wearing thin.

"I wish I could, but some little brat keeps taking up my time," Fury said. "If you carry on like this, somebody's going toget hurt."

_"People already have!"_

At that moment it appeared Spiderman had finally reached the end of his tether. He stepped forward, moving closer to Fury, whose hand moved slowly towards his sidearm.

"You're all _so keen _for me to join your little group, yet where were you when Connors was rampaging across the city? Where were you when I had to watch Captain Stacy _die_ in front of me?"

"Hey," Steve said softly, trying to sound calm. "It's OK."

"No," was the sharp reply. "It's not. Because maybe if you'd helped, he would still be alive."

Spiderman turned away then, heading to the edge of the rooftop. "I've had enough," he said. "I was an ordinary kid, before all this, and now I have so much responsibility. I'm a wanted man – they _want _me in connection to the death of the Captain, who died _because of me. _And now you want me to join your team of heroes – and what? Get more people killed? Create more monsters?"

He laughed once, bitterly. "I created the Lizard, you know. I was the one that got Captain Stacy killed. Already I'm sick of this responsibility. I just wanted to help people."

There was a brief moment of silence, before Tony broke it: "Hey Fury, if I stand on here and wear my pyjamas, can I complain too?"

Spiderman didn't say anything in reply; instead he raised his arm and fired a bolt of webbing at Tony, evidently aiming to stick his mouth shut. Tony, however, had other ideas, raising his own palm in defence, incinerating the bolt before it reached him, causing the kid to have to dodge out of the way. However, he was quick, firing another bolt and hitting Tony square in the face.

Fury's hand moved to his sidearm again, this time he un-holstered it. He didn't fire a shot however, instead his action had a significantly different effect.

A carbon-fibre _arrow _came whizzing out of the darkness from near the peak of Stark Tower. Unbeknownst to Bruce and Spiderman, Fury had placed Clint Barton, known as Hawkeye, there to oversee the situation below. If Fury signalled, he would act. And he had very exact instructions.

The arrow was easily dodged – in fact, it was _caught _by Spiderman, who had actually been facing the other way, meaning he'd had to pivot to get it. As such, he didn't notice when a much smaller object lodged itself onto the back of his thigh– fired with an arrow that broke up soon after it was fired. Fury had seen the data on Spiderman, and (rightly) estimated that he would have been able to dodge one of Hawkeye's arrows. Hawkeye's instructions had been to distract with an arrow, then fire the second object while Spiderman was distracted.

The second object consisted of two parts – a tiny tracker, one of SHIELD's best, accompanied with an equally tiny remote-activated capsule of sedative. Both were situated inside a small dart, which quickly sent the tracker and capsule into Spiderman's bloodstream.

The arrow was broken in two, Spiderman's disdain evident. "Well, I'm definitely not joining you now," he said, before moving and falling backwards off the rooftop. A moment later they saw him swing away.

* * *

"_Let me at him!" _Tony shouted, finally getting the webbing off his face (aided by Steve).

"Let him go," Bruce said softly, watching the red and blue figure fade into the distance, before looking up at the shadowy recess where Clint was sure to be hiding. "An arrow?" he asked.

"The arrow was not intended to hit him," Fury said, replacing his weapon in its holster. "We've placed a tracker with a remote-activated sedative in his bloodstream. As soon as he stops moving for a few hours, we're going to take him out and get this over with."

He sighed briefly, running a hand over his head. "The powers-that-be spoke and my ass is already in a sling over the whole Loki thing."

A noise alerted them to Clint lowering himself down on a rope. He briefly nodded to Bruce, before stepping past him to where Spiderman had been stood beforehand. He peered off the edge of the tower, watching a figure that none of the others could see anymore, before stooping to investigate the dart that had fallen off Spiderman's leg after administering the tracker and capsule.

"We may have a problem, sir," Clint said, rising and crossing the helipad.

"What sort of problem?" Fury asked, before Clint offered him the dart.

"You see the liquid on the inside?" he asked. Fury inspected it for a moment, seeing a tiny amount of liquid inside the small dart. He nodded.

"Sir, the inside of that dart is supposed to be vacuum sealed. That can only mean that the capsule with the sedative is faulty. It may have cracked or broken on impact."

"What are you saying?" Steve asked.

"What I'm saying is that Spiderman has got a sedative leaking into his bloodstream, while he's still airborne."

Tony sighed. "Great, just when I thought things were getting easier. Better go see where he's headed, then. How long do we have?"

"I don't know," Clint answered honestly. "I don't know how bad the crack was. An hour, maybe? A little more if we're lucky."

**_A/N: Hooray, an update! Thanks to my friend Lewis for helping me with this. Now I've just about caught up with myself, so updates will be even later than they have been so far._**  
**_Also, once again, thank you for the wonderful reviews! The one about Spidey swinging the Hulk across New York made me giggle. Sadly, no, that isn't what happened. _**  
**_And now we wait and see how long it takes me to write the next bit. Hope you enjoy it! :3_**


	9. Chapter 9

Peter Parker was tired. And angry. He was currently perched on the roof of the warehouse where he'd managed to trap the Hulk in his rampage across the city – a place that he would have to move on from soon. No doubt this 'Fury who ran all the shows' and the Avengers would soon be crawling all over it once Dr Banner had told them. Sighing, he checked through his bag, pulling out his cell phone and noticing that he had two messages, one from his Aunt May and one from Gwen. Gwen wanted him to go see her, talk about what happened at school today. No doubt she'd already seen that he'd had to go deal with the Hulk. His aunt's message was a little better, telling him that she'd gone to visit a friend for a few days and there should be enough supplies in the freezer for him to cook for himself. Although she didn't mention it in her message, Peter could tell from her tone that she was worried. He'd call her when he got home, just to let her know that he'd survived another day.

He zipped his bag up, slinging it over his shoulder and standing. He'd been on the rooftop for a short while now, and it was starting to rain. Stretching, he briefly winced as his joints and bones ached – his ribs had been throbbing painfully for the past few hours where the Hulk had managed to backhand him into a wall, and his leg had just started to hurt again.

As he swung over the city, he considered what Fury and the Avengers had said to him. They wanted him on their team. Or, at least, onside. But Peter didn't know if he wanted it. On paper, it sounded great. He'd have backup, people he could trust with his identity. Dr Banner had seemed nice enough (when he wasn't the Hulk), Captain America was the sort of guy who had _very _clear distinctions between right and wrong. And then there was Tony Stark, Iron Man. Peter didn't know what to think of Stark. He was a jerk, sure, but his heart was in the right place when it came to helping out, he'd heard. Granted, he _had _saved New York from that group of aliens, with the rest of the Avengers. Peter wasn't sure if he would have been able to handle that.

He'd barely been able to handle the Lizard.

He came to land on another rooftop – it was now pouring with rain and it was getting a little difficult to see – before rummaging in his bag for his police scanner. Bleary-eyed, he blinked a few times, attempting to focus on the scanner. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a good night's sleep. _And _he had homework.

He listened to the scanner for a while, but there was nothing that warranted his attention. Until there came reports of a gang of youths that were mugging people around the area of 1st Avenue.

Sighing, he stowed his bag under a ventilation duct, sticking it there with some webbing. He could easily retrieve it later. He then leapt off the rooftop, swinging off a nearby balcony.

Some people thought about things while in the shower. Apparently Peter did his best while swinging a hundred feet above traffic in the rain.

What he'd said on the helipad of Stark Tower had been true: he was sick of it already. The Avengers wanted him to join, yet he didn't know if they had some ulterior motive. Dr Banner hadn't been very forthcoming with his information. Peter got the impression that he wasn't SHIELD's biggest fan. And they wouldn't leave him alone. He needed time to think, to research, and decide what he wanted to do. For a lot of his life, decisions had been made for him. He'd not even had much of a choice in becoming Spiderman.

His concentration temporarily broke, and he nearly misfired his webbing. He landed on a nearby building, sticking to the wall to shake his head and clear it for a moment.

_Get it together, _he thought. _Now is not the time for an existential crisis._

It also wasn't the time to panic, which he was doing a little. He'd only ever misfired once before, right before his run through the cranes on his way to the Oscorp building. He briefly rubbed his leg, which had now subsided to a dull ache. His head was aching also.

Climbing up the side of the building, he briefly wondered how far they would go to try and get him to join. Then his attention was diverted as the rain suddenly poured harder, soaking him further. He shivered a little, before cresting the building, attempting to shake excess water off. His suit was waterproof, but it wasn't permanently so. He could feel water seeping in through the material. So much for 'at least a month without leaks'.

He was near to the last known location of the gang. There weren't many alleyways near here, so it wouldn't take him long to search.

He swung over a few buildings, almost colliding with a water tower somehow, before a noise alerted him. It was faint, almost drowned out by the sound of the rain thundering around him.

It was a scream – a girl's, and it was scared. Peter moved into action, landing on a saturated balcony and overlooking the scene.

It appeared the girl had tried to raise the alarm by screaming, yet was soon shut up by a swift blow to the face.

'Just give us the purse!' one of the gang yelled – there were nine in total.

The girl, now shaking, slowly moved to hand the purse over, but none of the parties involved were expecting said purse to be snatched away by a strand of Peter's webbing. He attached it to the side of the balcony, before lowering himself down to the ground.

"Now guys," he said, shoehorning the nervousness Peter Parker would have felt to replace it with the confidence of Spiderman, "I've had a long day. I'd ask you not to make it any longer, and leave this nice lady alone."

A couple of the gang took the hint, and ran, much to the contempt of their fellow gang-members. A few of them drew out knives, obviously thinking they could still take Peter on.

There were seven of them now, and the woman who was still crouched by a dustbin. Peter offered her a smile, before realising his face was concealed behind his mask. He then turned back to the gang, who were slowly trying to circle him.

"Come on guys, last chance. I'm tired, I'm cold, and I've got bigger fish to fry."

He could tell a few of the gang were nervous, so he quickly took them out of the equation by removing their weapons with webbing and pinning them to the wall.

Well, he attempted to. He managed to snag one knife, but his other arm missed entirely, instead hitting a nearby wall. The gang took the opportunity to then move closer, only to get into range where Peter wouldn't miss.

He leapt forward, crashing through the gathered group, grabbing one around the neck and swinging him into the rest of them. A knife flashed out of the rain, and he swerved to avoid it, trying to calm his rising panic. He should have been able to dodge it easily, yet he was almost like the same Peter Parker before he'd been bitten by the spider.

He was brought back to the present by one of the gang managing to land a kick on his ribs, nearly making his knees buckle with the pain. His battle with the Hulk earlier had _not _helped matters. The pain, however, managed to sharpen his senses enough for him to take out two of the gang members with some well-placed kicks and punches.

He dodged more blows, before hitting a knife-wielder in the face with some webbing, forcing him to reel away, tearing at the white strands. In the seconds after, his senses screamed at him, causing him to pivot, right as another one of the gang members came at him with a knife.

His senses didn't even register the bright red and blue object come flying out of the downpour around him, hitting three of the gang members before disappearing back into the darkness. A voice echoed out around the alley.

"Leave, now. I don't want to hurt you but that's exactly what's going to happen if you don't."

The gang members gaped for a moment, as Captain America stepped into view, shield now on his arm. They took the hint, scattering.

* * *

Steve and Clint had been the ones to go into the alley. Bruce had stayed back at Stark Tower to get some better-fitting clothes and recover from his latest episode. They'd sent Tony to go and investigate the place where Spiderman had stopped for a while, other than the warehouse Bruce had identified for them. Partly because Tony would be able to reach the higher places better, and partly because they knew that Tony would probably burn the kid to ash if he wasn't careful.

As soon as the gang scattered, Steve moved forward, to gaze on Spiderman leaning against the wall in front of him.

Well, sort of leaning, considering he was level with a first floor level, sticking there with one hand. His other was holding into his ribcage. He'd leapt up there after the gang had left, evidently trying to make his escape, but finding his limbs weren't responding much anymore.

He beheld Steve and Clint for a moment, taking in the shield and bow respectively, before laughing softly, raising his head to the heavens.

"You did this, didn't you? Before I left the tower, right? That arrow was never intended to hit me."

He shifted his position slightly, before looking down at Steve and Clint again.

Clint spoke up. "You were hit with a tracker and sedative capsule. But the capsule cracked; you weren't supposed to be affected until we knew you'd stopped moving."

Spiderman laughed again, although his laugh was somewhat pained. "Sucks, right?" he asked. "Guess this means you've saved my ass twice today."

Steve and Clint had a moment to glance at each other, before Spiderman pitched forward, his grip on the wall finally failing. Steve managed to move in time to catch him before he hit the ground, holding him awkwardly in his arms for a moment.

He felt so light, like a child. Steve fleetingly wondered if the kid had parents that knew what he was doing for the city each day.

He didn't get to consider anything else, however, as he suddenly noticed the blood that was dripping from the stab wound near Spiderman's ribcage.

_**A/N: ehehehe because we all love cliffhangers. But gosh I'm terrible at fight scenes. Hopefully another one I've got planned will work better.**_  
_**The reviews keep coming and I keep squealing because they're all so nice!**_  
_**To korrd: I never actually thought of that, and I've not read the comics much. Considering they have Spiderman's DNA, I suppose it can't be that hard for them to make a tailor-made sedative? ...We'll say that's it.**_  
_**So, yes, enjoy!**_


	10. Chapter 10

There were intermittent flashing lights and shouts. Peter was aware that he was being held in someone's arms, another person pressing down on his ribcage. It hurt, a lot, and he tried to move away, to stop the pressure on his ribs. It only caused the person to hold onto him tighter.

"He's waking up!" a voice said – Captain America? It sounded like it. Peter raised his head, trying to focus through his mask as he moved.

"Hey, hold still," the same voice said, but softer. "We need to control the bleeding and we can't do that if you're moving. I know it hurts but you need to stay still. Clint, have you managed to stop it yet?" he asked, addressing the man who was pressing into his side.

"No," was the answer. "The knife went deep and I can't see properly to know how bad the damage is. We need to get him medical attention, fast. Can you speed it up in front?"

The question was shouted at the person driving the car they were currently in – Peter was vaguely aware of the motion of the vehicle.

Whatever the answer was, Peter gathered it wasn't good enough, because the Captain spoke again to someone Peter couldn't see.

"Tony, can you get here? We're not moving fast enough!"

"Steve, he won't make that journey, he'll bleed out," the voice identified as Clint said. "We need a way to seal this wound if he's even gonna make it to the tower."

An idea occurred to Peter then, and he raised his hand, grabbing onto someone nearby.

"Try and keep still," the Captain said again, holding onto Peter's wayward arm.

_No, you don't understand, _he thought, trying again, this time opening his mouth and attempting to speak.

"Web," he said quickly, pulling his hand away and attempting to indicate his wrist. "Can seal."

There was a moment of silence at this, before a hand grabbed onto one of his wrists, angling it towards his body.

"...How does it work?" the one named Clint said, fingers trying to manipulate the device. Peter attempted something like a sigh in annoyance, but it came out more like a whimper. He flexed his fingers, pressing them onto the shooter on his wrist, activating it.

The force of the webbing hitting his ribs almost made him cry out again, but he managed to muffle it, biting onto his lip instead. The hand around his wrist manipulated it slightly, and he felt the webbing cover a section below his ribcage.

"All right, you can let go," Clint told him, and he released his grip, breath coming in hard gasps as his ribs throbbed.

"Stark, are you here yet?" the Captain said, presumably into a mic somewhere. There was a pause. "You're gonna have to make it work, I don't know how long he's going to last."

A hand went to his throat, for a moment Peter thought he was getting strangled, before realising someone was taking a pulse.

It was then that he realised he was tired again, and closed his eyes.

Peter vaguely realised he was being moved – gently but quickly – out of the Captain's arms.

"Fly fast," someone was saying. "I don't know how permanent the stuff is."

It was at that moment Peter realised that he was being passed out of the sunroof, into some cold, metal arms.

"I must be important, right?" he croaked, opening his eyes to look up at the bright white eyes of Iron Man.

"Hold on, kid," was the reply. "This might get a little hairy."

Peter managed a small laugh at that, before closing his eyes again.

* * *

He heard voices at somepoint during the darkened haze of the time after.

"Hey, Steve." The voice was quiet. Peter recognised it as Dr Banner.

"Wh-what?" Captain America – Steve – said, sounding groggy. Peter heard him yawn. "What time is it?"

"Almost 9am," was the answer. "Has he woken up yet?"

"No," Steve sighed. "At least, I don't think he has. It's been over a day; surely the sedatives have worn off by now?"

"I would say so," Dr Banner said. "He might have just been exhausted. I mean, he was stabbed, his ribs were broken and he was still recovering from the Lizard fight, I guess."

Quiet footsteps were heard, a man was walking to join the other two, somewhere nearby.

"Kid's name is Peter Parker. He lives with his aunt and uncle. No, wait, scratch that, his uncle was killed a short while ago when a guy robbed a store – uncle tried to be a hero and got shot for it. Apparently he died in the kid's arms."

"What about his parents?"

"It says his father worked for Oscorp," the third man – Stark – said. Peter heard papers being rustled. "But he was put in to live with his aunt and uncle when the boy was pretty young."

There was silence for a few moments.

"Wow," Steve said. "No wonder he has trust issues."

"You're telling me," Stark replied.

They continued to talk, but their words were lost to Peter.

* * *

He next awoke to a dimly lit room and a large, comfortable bed. For a moment, he didn't move, taking in the ceiling above him.

Then he remembered the events that had occurred beforehand.

He sat bolt upright, or attempted to, before his ribs seared with pain. Upon inspection, he saw they were bound in clean bandages. With careful prodding, he found he also had some stitches over the stab wound. He was going to have serious words with the guy who thought he wouldn't mind being sedated.

A sound alerted him then, and he froze, turning his head slowly to see Captain America – minus the uniform – asleep on a chair on the other end of the room. He frowned, before taking in the rest of the room. It was large, clean and spacious – and it appeared as though it wasn't used often. Across the room, he could see a small kitchenette, along with a TV and sofa. In essence, the place was a mini-apartment. There were also some large windows, at the moment covered with slatted blinds. Peter gathered he was in Stark Tower. _Great, right in the lion's den_, he thought. _So much for having time to think this through._

He wondered why Captain America had decided to stay in the room. It reminded him of the time when, as a kid, he'd caught a fever, and his Aunt May had stayed by his bedside, tending to him. Well, the Captain was a guy from the days of World War 2, so maybe it was an old-fashioned thing. A little creepy, though, watching someone while they were sleeping. Especially someone you'd only just met.

Peter slumped back into the pillows, hand covering his eyes for a moment. Of course they had taken his mask. _And _his costume. Now another group of people knew his 'secret' identity. He sighed, wondering what his next move was.

He looked around him, before spotting a water jug on the table nearby. Realising how thirsty he actually was, he attempted to reach for it.

It was like a movie cliché or something. It was _just _out of reach. They'd taken his web shooters too, so those were out in retrieving the jug. Peter shifted his position, finally able to grab the jug. Unfortunately, he'd misjudged his strength again, and sent said jug sailing onto the floor.

Peter had a few moments to gaze at the water that was now seeping into the carpet, before he was alerted by movement at the end of the room. He looked up to see Steve Rogers looking down at him.

"I'm sure Mr Stark can afford it," he said eventually.

_**A/N: Hooray, an update! Although if I'm honest I'm not sure if I like the way this chapter ends, but oh well. It needs to move on a little so ending the chapter is the way I'm going to do it.**_  
_**Once more, thank you all for the wonderous reviews! I get a little glow inside every time I see one.**_  
_**Not sure how long it'll be to next update; I have an English essay to write and I was putting it off for this chapter...**_  
_**Also, to the reviewer who thought to inform me of how to properly spell "Spider-Man", the way I see it, it's my fic and I shall do what I want. Read as: I'm too lazy to include a hyphen every time I write it.**_


	11. Chapter 11

Tony and Clint were in the kitchen-slash-dining room where most of the Avengers gathered to eat if they were around. While each apartment in the tower had its own facilities, most preferred the company in the communal area. Both of them stopped what they were doing for a moment when Steve led Spiderman – Peter – into the room. If the kid was daunted by the people in the room, he didn't show, moving to one of the chairs and sitting down gingerly. There was a few moments' silence, before Clint went back to the granola he was eating, and Tony spoke up.

"So, pyjama boy is out of the pyjamas," he said.

"Well, at least I don't look like I've stepped out of the Wizard of Oz, tin man," Peter retorted.

"He has a point, you know," Clint contributed.

"Can it, Legolas," Tony said, before getting hit by a perfectly thrown spoon.

"Guys," Steve broke in. "Can we not turn breakfast into a food fight again?"

"Yeah, you know I'll win," Clint said, as he ducked a butter knife. It was returned swiftly to Tony, who managed to catch it more out of luck than skill, but at the cost of getting covered in butter.

"All right, I'm stopping," Tony complained, throwing the knife into the sink. "Kid, you want something?" he asked, addressing Peter again. "I'm making waffles."

"Depends, are you gonna lace 'em with tranquilizers?" Peter asked, making the room turn a little colder.

"Just so you know, that was Fury's idea, not mine," Tony said. "And _he _did the actual shooting," he pointed to Clint. Clint had nothing left to throw at Tony that wouldn't break on impact, so he instead fixed him with a glare.

"I was following orders," he said. "And what happened was a fault with the capsule, not my shooting ability. Just be glad I wasn't actually aiming to kill you," he told Peter.

Peter raised an eyebrow at this. "Well, now I have to tell my-"

He broke off for a moment. "How long was I out?" he asked suddenly.

"Two days," Steve said. "It's now Wednesday."

Peter sighed, "Do you guys have a phone I can use? Or is your pirate bossman going to jump out of the shadows at any moment and drag me off for questioning?"

"I don't actually know where Fury is," Tony said honestly. "Jarvis, is Fury around?"

The question was addressed to the ceiling, and Peter had a split second to frown before a British-accented voice answered:

_'He left last night, sir. He expected you to call as soon as our guest had awakened.'_

"Did he now?" Tony said.

"That's Jarvis," Steve said quietly to Peter. "Tony's butler and computer all in one."

"Why, he couldn't hire any that would stay?" Peter asked, earning a smirk from Steve and Clint.

"They put your cell phone with the rest of your stuff, when they were done," Clint said. He pointed to the bag that was placed on a small table in the corner of the room. "I don't think they did your homework, though."

"Cute," Peter replied, standing and moving to his bag. The others watched him, Steve noting his movements were still quite reserved, so he was probably still hurting.

The kid pulled out his phone, checking it over for a few seconds, before dialling a number. He winced has an automated voice spoke to him, informing him he had five messages from Gwen and two from his aunt. Sighing, he pressed a few buttons, sitting down at the table again and listening to the messages.

The other three couldn't hear what was being said, but whatever was being said, it clearly wasn't good. As each minute passed Peter seemed to shrink a little further, before he ended up with his head against the table in frustration.

"That bad, huh?" Tony asked.

"So, you guys manage to fire super secret weapons at vigilantes yet you can't stop a single witness from going to the media?" Peter asked, "And you told my school I'd won an internship _here?!_"

"How else were we going to cover it? It's a good enough excuse," Tony retorted. "As for the witness, I think everyone was more preoccupied with _saving your life _than with a girl who may or may not have seen you get stabbed._"_

That shut Peter up for a moment, and then he dialled a number.

"Aunt May-" he managed to say, before a barrage of words cut him off. He glared at the three in the room, clearly annoyed that he now had to explain himself to his guardian.

"Yes, I should have called earlier, I'm sorry. It's just been a busy few days, y'know. People have been hounding me for stuff. And you should know not to believe the stuff in the news. I'm fine, I promise. I've even managed to get myself an internship at Stark Industries for a short while."

The others couldn't hear what his Aunt was saying, but they gathered she had been pacified. For now, at least.

"All right, I'll call you tomorrow. When are you coming home? Friday, alright. _Yes, _I'll get some eggs. _Yes, I've been eating. _Look, I've gotta go, I've got stuff to do, all right? Right, bye."

He hung up the phone and for a moment said nothing.

"That wasn't so bad," Steve said.

"_That _was the easy one," was the groaned reply, as Peter dialled another number. "Now I have to phone my girlfriend."

He didn't even get a chance to say anything before a stream of words came out of the phone's earpiece. Wincing, Peter held the phone a short distance from his ear, trying to get a word in.

"Gw-Gwen. _Gwen. _Stop shouting. I'm calling you now, right?"

That clearly wasn't good enough as a fresh torrent of words hit him.

"Look, perhaps if you let me get a word in edgeways I could _explain. _I'm fine now. And the reason I haven't called you was because I've basically been unconscious for the past two days."

That evidently shut her up, before something quieter was said.

"Like I said, I'm fine. Not sure when I'll be able to get out of my prison yet, but I'll call you."

Whatever the girl said next caused Peter to laugh quietly.

"What do you mean you didn't think I wouldn't have got an internship here?"

He hung up after that, throwing the phone onto the table, before folding his arms and resting his head on them.

"Your guardian _and _your girlfriend know who you are?" Tony asked. "What happened to 'I can actually keep my secret'?

"Clearly you've never had to explain yourself to someone at three in the morning," Peter muttered from his arms.

Any further argument was cut off by Jarvis' voice radiating from the ceiling again.

_'Sir, Director Fury is on the line. He wishes to know if there has been any change in Mr Parker's condition.'_

Peter snorted. "You can tell him he's gone from asleep to wanting to get out of here."

_'My apologies, sir, but it appears that Director Fury wishes to speak with you before he can allow that.'_

"Jarvis is right," Clint said. "The Director had enough trouble bringing you in."

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "You didn't hear him when you and Bruce had gone AWOL. All right Jarvis, tell him our guest is up so we can get this over with. Ball's in your park, kid, you gonna make this an interrogation or a consultation?" he asked Peter.

Peter sighed, before looking up at Tony. "All right, _fine. _But I have a request."

_**A/N: hooray, an update! You'll all be pleased to know I did my essay, but then The Angels Take Manhattan happened and I kinda failed in my writing for a bit. So, here is this. OK so it might not be the action or confrontation everyone was hoping for, but stuff'll happen in the next chapter. In theory. For now, enjoy!**_  
_**Also the bit with the granola I couldn't resist.**_


	12. Chapter 12

It was difficult to tell who was more uncomfortable, Peter Parker or Bruce Banner. While the room they were in wasn't like a police-style interrogation room, there was certainly that feeling in the atmosphere.

Peter's request had been an unusual one. If Nick Fury wanted to know his story, he would tell it. But not to Fury. He wanted to talk to Bruce Banner.

Everyone else was stood outside; Tony had set up Jarvis to play the conversation live to them, as well as recording it for Fury's records.

"So..." Bruce began, fiddling with his shirtsleeve a little. "How exactly do you want this done?"

"I don't want it done at all," Peter grumbled, "but I guess this is the only way I'm getting out of here. What is it you guys even want?"

"I think they want to know all of it. How you became Spiderman, and how Connors got to be... what he was."

Peter sighed, leaning his forearms on the table. "All right," he said. "Here goes nothing, then."

The group in the separate room listened in silence as Peter told his story. How he'd found his father's old work file, how he'd decided to visit Oscorp – to see if they had any information on his father, and how Connors was _bound _to know something.

"Of course, it went completely differently," he said. "In the file my dad had, there was a symbol. And at Oscorp there was a guy carrying a file with the same symbol. I figured that whatever he was working on was still going on, so I followed him. Ended up in a room full of spiders and," he laughed softly. "You know how that goes."

"A spider bit you," Bruce summarised.

Peter nodded, "Unlike you, I didn't have a... friend... to step in and stop it. As far as I can tell, my DNA has been changed. And I don't think it can change back."

"Is that true?" Steve asked, in the other room.

Fury nodded. "Our analysts say he's pretty much a perfect hybrid. To try and change him back could kill him."

"It's not so bad, though," Peter continued, almost as if he heard the others in the other room. "I mean, it gave me some pretty neat enhancements. I'm stronger, faster, I have _amazing _reflexes, and I can stick to pretty much anything. And I heal faster. Not by much, but enough so people at school don't notice when I come in after a rough night."

Bruce smiled slightly at his comment. Most students couldn't even get out of bed normally, yet here was Peter Parker, getting up after fighting crime, or giant mutated Lizards. _Speaking of which._

"You said before that you 'created' the Lizard," he asked, slightly uncomfortably.

Peter nodded.

"You've seen Connors, right?" he asked. "And his specialist field – cross-species genetics. Well, in order for it to properly work, he needed something called the Decay Rate Algorithm. And my dad did."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I just thought I was helping. All Connors wanted was his arm back. And the test phase on the animals worked great. The mouse grew its leg back like the computer predicted. Only... it caused a mutation. In the mouse _and _Connors. And well, you all saw how that went."

He went on to explain what happened at the school and then the Oscorp Tower, the fights, the discovery of Connor's plan, and Captain Stacy discovering his identity.

He stumbled a little when he described how the Captain met his courageous end, and when he was finished he didn't say anything, fiddling with his sleeve.

"Wow," Clint said, speaking up for the first time.

"Kid's got a lot on his plate," Tony commented.

"I can see why he didn't want to talk to us," Steve said. "He's barely had enough time to deal with this crap himself."

"Still think he's up for the bet?"

Clint smirked as Steve turned to face Tony. "What bet?" he asked.

Tony didn't say anything, his smile growing wider. Fury sighed, "Just make sure you don't kill the kid, alright?" he said, exiting the room.

"What bet?" Steve repeated. Tony ignored him further, addressing the ceiling. "Jarvis, get Bruce and the kid on the line."

_"He is here, sir," _the computer said.

"Hey kid," Tony said. "Wanna go up against our own spider?"

_**A/N: Okay guys I'm reeeeallly sorry it's taken me so long to update. I'd been planning on writing that whole scene completely differently, but it just wasn't working. SO, we have it this way instead! I hope it's enough to tide you over to the next update.**_  
_**To the reviewer who asked about the internship and Aunt May: I think that Aunt May does know about him being Spiderman, but Peter wouldn't want her to worry about him being stabbed, so he's kinda covered that up with the whole internship thing, explaining his absence from school etc. Right? [I hope that makes sense]  
Anyway, enjoy!**_


	13. Chapter 13

The room was high-ceilinged, and full of gymnastic and sparring equipment. The floor was slightly padded, enough to give a person extra bounce and cushion their fall if they were using the ropes or bars scattered around. In the centre of said room stood Peter Parker and Natasha Romanoff. Peter had been very interested to know who the Avengers' 'spider' was.

"All right, I give up," he said, upon meeting her and being unable to discern anything different, aside from the fact she looked _very _deadly. "What makes you like a spider?"

"In some circles I'm known as the Black Widow," she said shortly, analysing the boy in front of her. "Remind me why we're doing this," she said to the others.

"Because Barton and I have a bet on," Tony said. "_He _thinks you'll only last 30 seconds against her. I think you'll last a bit longer, maybe a minute."

"Yeah, well, experience pays," Clint said.

Peter frowned. "None of you actually bet on _me _then," he confirmed.

"Actually, Steve and I aren't making bets," Bruce said. "But, for the record, I think you'll last longer."

"I didn't even know they'd planned this," Steve muttered. "Is he even fit enough for something like this?" he asked. "He was nearly at death's door two days ago."

"Hey, Spangles, I'm still here," Peter said. "I'll be fine. Like I said to Dr Banner here, advanced healing factor. I can barely feel it."

Steve wasn't convinced, but Peter didn't give him a chance to speak again, continuing: "So, what are we doing here? Fight to the death?"

"I think Fury would have something to say about that," Natasha said.

"No, we're not," Tony said. "I've just installed a new system in here, thought you two could test it out. Jarvis, start the program."

_'Doing so now, sir,'_ the voice responded, before they all heard the whirring of machinery throughout the entire building. One of the walls in the gym-like room moved, exposing a set of TVs behind it, each one flickering on. _'Your task, Mr Parker and Agent Romanoff, is a simple one. You are both currently situated in the gymnasium on level 3. There is a flag with a tracker dot attached to it situated on level 45, as depicted here on the screens.' _The screens showed a schematic of the tower, along with a blinking red dot, pinpointing the flag. _'Once you have obtained the flag, you must proceed to level 90, where the finish is. Be careful, however, the entire tower has now been activated to incapacitate anything it perceives as a threat.'_

The screens zoomed out, showing the tower in its entirety. _'On every third floor, a screen will be displayed to track your opponent's progress, if you wish to. Each one is well-protected. Furthermore, each of you will be allowed a weapon or gadget of choice. If you are to incapacitate your opponent, it must be done in a non-lethal manner, or in such a way as to not cause lasting damage. Good luck.'_

"Wait, _this _is simple?" Peter asked.

"You scared you'll lose?" Tony asked, smirking.

Peter shot Tony a look. "Let's not forgot who beat who the last time we had a scrap," he said shortly, before walking closer to the screens and peering at them. "All right then, what are these gadgets we get to choose from?" he asked.

"Over there," Natasha said, pointing to the far side of the room.

Upon inspection, Peter was very surprised to find they'd actually included his web-shooter on the array of devices and weapons on the table. There was only one, however. He fixed it around his wrist, taking a small comfort in the fact he had it again and it hadn't been taken apart by Tony. Although it did leave the question of where the other one was. He decided not to press it for now, instead glancing over at Natasha as she picked up her choice. It was a bracelet of some sort, attaching to a glove on her right hand. It glowed blue.

"I've put it on a low setting," she said, noticing Peter's gaze. "You'll still be in one piece by the end of it."

"A _low _setting?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow, testing his wrist shooter on the nearby wall.

"Hey, don't pull the ceiling down with that," Tony called. "I've already had to rebuild this tower once."

"Relax, Sparks, it'll dissolve in a few hours," Peter said, before asking, "When do we start?"

"Now," Natasha said, before she launched an attack at Peter, barely giving him enough time to dodge out of the way. He moved, almost losing the skin of his nose as her arm swung through the air.

For the most part, it was Natasha on the offensive. Peter evaded her blows, but found he wasn't able to retaliate as such – he may have the super-fast reflexes and strength, but she had experience beyond anything he'd been up against. And she was _definitely _playing for keeps.

He moved backwards, trying to get some space, when suddenly the offensive stopped. It was only then that Peter saw the Black Widow's ploy – she'd been trying to get to the door. She darted to the right, opening the door swiftly and closing it behind her, most probably locking it. Peter had a moment to stand in a (slightly stunned) silence, before Tony's snicker captured his attention.

"Better hurry it up or you'll lose before you've even left the room."

_**A/N: Once again, ten billion apologies for not updating sooner, it took me forever to work out what I was actually going to do. So here, have this to tide you over until next update [I was originally going to make this whole scene in one post, but I felt bad for leaving you guys with no update, so here]. I don't know when I'll next update, though, I have to sort out my UCAS application and my college work, so. I hope you can all wait!**_  
_**Once again, thank you ALL for the reviews and follows. I still don't understand how or why you love it, but I keep receiving the emails and it's really encouraging :)**_  
_**Hope you enjoyed it!**_


	14. Chapter 14

"Son of a freakin-!"

Stark Tower was a _nightmare. _

Peter had managed to reach floor 17, mostly by luck and his senses than any skill. He'd attempted to go up the elevator shaft, considering it would be a straight-shot to floor 45, but Stark had obviously thought any prospective invaders would plan the same thing. As it were, the elevator shaft was crisscrossed with lasers that would most probably take an arm off. And those were the static defences: there were also wall-mounted turrets that fired bolts of energy: much faster than a bullet and _much_ harder to dodge.

He'd exited the elevator shaft on the floor below, already tired of dodging lasers, energy bolts and other flying nuisances. Now he had to deal with whatever was waiting in the corridors. And floor 17 was covered in what could only be described as _mines. _

They weren't crude creations, however – they detonated with little damage to the tower itself, one filling the corridor with a dense smoke that Peter could barely see through. The one Peter was currently cursing at had literally dismantled itself, before strong, thin cables shot out, attempting to ensnare him and pin him to the wall. He'd dodged just in time, zipping out of the way with help from his wrist-shooter.

He crouched on the ceiling, which was mostly clear, before crawling quickly, nimbly dodging a few darts that were fired his way.

Finally he spotted the door to floor 18, and darted through, just as another mine exploded, sending what appeared to be something like a concussion wave outwards, cracking a nearby window.

_Now there's an idea, _he thought, as he bounded up the stairs, reaching floor 18.

Somewhere on this level was a computer terminal – as such, there would be a link to Stark's computer system.

He spotted it easily. It wasn't hard to spot a computer system with about three high-powered turrets surrounding it. He sighed. Apparently he wasn't going to get a break today. He briefly wondered where his competitor was – the computer screen wasn't showing him. He assumed it was touch activated. _She'd _not bothered with them, though, he saw no signs of anything being set off. He wondered what route she was taking.

He crouched – at this distance the turret hadn't registered him, and wasn't firing – and aimed carefully. He let loose with a string of webbing, sealing the barrel of the turret. He knew it wouldn't last long, but it was enough to give him time.

He gave the same treatment to the other two, before heading to the window, inspecting it.

_Crap._

There was no way he'd be able to break it. Sure, he may be a super-strong hybrid, with a kickass sense of humour, but the only thing he was going to break on these windows was his arm.

_Unless... _he thought, turning to look at the computer terminal, still guarded by the slightly shaking – yet still disabled – computers.

He moved quickly, skidding to a halt in front of the screen. "Yo, Jarvis, you there?" he asked, unsure if the computer could talk to him, or whether he'd even gotten the name right. "Show me what's happening."

The screen flickered, before a schematic of the building appeared.

"What?!" Peter muttered, as he spotted the blinking dot representing the Black Widow – _on floor 31. _The elevator shaft had _not _been a good move. He tapped the screen a few times, attempting to zoom out, but to no avail.

"Come _on," _he said, nearly hitting the screen, before realising he'd probably knock it off the wall. The guns were slowly becoming unstuck – his webbing wasn't permanent and it didn't help that they were trying to target him, barrels revolving (or trying to). "Talk to me you friggin' computer."

_'My apologies sir, but I have been programmed to not give you or Agent Romanoff any assistance whatsoever,' _a voice suddenly said, nearly making Peter jump.

"So you _can _talk to me," Peter grinned. "Okay, well, can you just tell me _one _thing?" he asked. "One thing, and then I won't consult another computer again. I promise."

There was a moment's silence, and then: _'What is your question?' _

Peter considered for a moment. It wasn't cheating, it was utilising his skills, which was certainly what the Widow was doing.

"What floor did the Hulk break out of?"

_**A/N: FINALLY I managed to update, and just in time for the apocalypse, too! I seriously meant to do it earlier than this, but I made the mistake of starting a new fic and then personal statements and english essays happened. And this update was meant to be longer, like the whole tower sequence, but I decided you guys deserved an update before the end. **_  
_**Anyway, enjoy! Apologies for the rather short chapter, and the lack of action. I always appreciate your reviews and favourites as well, you make my heart sing with every one of them (aside from that one that just said "bom"... no wait never mind it's Portuguese for "good". THANKS!)**_


	15. Chapter 15

Natasha Romanoff wasn't cheating: she was utilising her skills. And in her line of work, playing fair usually meant you ended up dead. As such, she was currently around floor 32, by utilising her skills. Well, her _assets. _  
Natasha Romanoff was a small woman. She often used that to her advantage. At the moment, she was using it to fit inside the _tiny _ventilation system Stark Tower had. Stark had designed it so burly men with a lot of weaponry couldn't go crawling through the tower, but the Black Widow wasn't a burly man. She also had the advantage of some prior knowledge of the defence system Stark had put in place, as such, she knew the elevator shaft would _not _be a good idea, and she saved herself the time she would most likely waste attempting to navigate it. The vents, on the other hand, had little protection, just guards on the covers that were easily avoided, if you knew or worked out their sequencing, which Natasha had.

Peter Parker may be a smart kid, but he hadn't the patience of Natasha. She had been a _ballerina, _a discipline which required the utmost patience, let alone a spy. As such, she was able to traverse the vent system with relative ease, pinning her body to the sides and climbing the way up to floor 32. Well, floor 33 now. However, the ventilation system was confined, and she was getting a little claustrophobic.

_Why is it _I _have to be the one doing all the hard work for this bet? _She thought, and she came level with floor 35. She'd been called in at the same time as Hawkeye, and had at first been interested to know the identity of Spiderman. When Stark and Clint (who were slowly becoming an infuriating pair with their constant bets and food fights) had pitched the idea at her, she'd agreed. She was beginning to regret it a little; _they _weren't the ones having to climb through several thousand yards of ventilation system.

As for their bet, she'd gained the upper hand quite quickly, but she'd also noticed _he'd_ been holding back slightly, testing her skills almost. True, she'd not been attempting any of her stronger moves, instead preferring to move on to her target, but he hadn't attempted anything either. She'd looked at his records beforehand. Peter Parker was certainly a kid who'd been holding back. Even after he became the Spider he'd held back – aside from an incident involving a basketball – continuing in the same way as he had before: quiet, reserved, and hard-working. He'd not drawn attention to himself at all. The one who drew all the attention was Spiderman himself. If Natasha hadn't met the kid herself she would have thought the Spider infection had caused a mental problem of some kind as well, they were that different.

"Finally," she muttered, as she heaved herself onto floor 45. She swiftly crawled to the exit vent, before slowly and carefully removing the cover. She had to take cover quickly, as a nearby turret revolved to point at her. It didn't fire, however, as she quickly got out of range of its sensor.

_1... 2... 3... 4... 5, _she counted, before launching herself out of the vent, into a nearby corner, once again out of range.

Like all security systems, there was a sequence of some kind. Stark Tower was no different, even if Tony Stark himself wanted it to be so. His system was a little harder to beat – each turret and gun ran on a different timer, so they had to be counted individually, but Natasha had worked out that the ones covering the vents ran on the same timing system, most likely due to the fact that they were the least accessible part of the entire structure. She was sure Stark would update the system after the contest was over, though, just in case. While Peter Parker had gone for the elevator shaft, Natasha had waited, and counted.

Now, on floor 45, she spotted her prize, and almost rolled her eyes in frustration.

Spiderman's _mask _was their flag, sitting in pride of place in the centre of the room. She wondered whose idea it was, Stark's or Clint's. Either way, they had an annoying sense of humour between the two of them. She stood up, slowly, watching the three roving turrets and the mines that had been placed along the wall.

She almost wished she had a web-shooter like the kid's (not that she would be able to work it very well), in order to move faster across the room, or bring the mask straight to her.

The mines wouldn't detonate unless she moved close to them, and she was currently out of range of both them and the turrets. It was then that she noticed she was directly underneath a computer terminal. Being careful not to move too much and disturb the sensors around the turrets, she pressed down on the screen, bringing up the map of the tower. Parker was on floor 35; he'd made good progress from when she'd last checked on floor 21. He'd gotten out of the elevator shafts, at least. She assumed he'd been taking the stairs route, meaning he'd had to cross each floor to reach the next flight – the fire escapes had been sealed, unless you had a code, and Natasha had neither the time nor the inclination to try and crack it. Natasha however _did _have the good graces to admit that Parker was certainly capable of getting the mask – she'd seen the footage of him and by the others' reports, he was quick.

"Jarvis," she asked, speaking to the computer in front of her. "What happens when opposing forces meet on the same floor?"

Natasha couldn't tell if the computer was considering her question or considering whether to answer it. She assumed the latter in the end, before the voice replied: _'The automated defence systems are disabled, due to the nature of the combatants and their respective power.'_

Natasha smirked. Tony Stark had, as usual, made his guns the size of his ego, and powerful enough to probably take him and any allies apart.

And like that, she formulated a plan, and ducked behind the computer screen, hiding from the door that led up from Floor 44.

_**A/N: I apologise it's not the fight scene we were all hoping for, you'll get it next chapter - and more. It may also gladden or disappoint you that I see an end to this fic coming! But yeah, enjoy this for now - I kinda liked the idea of having Tony and Clint have some sort of friendship together, I mean, there was definitely a bromance of sorts in the movie, unless that's just Tony flirting with everyone.**_  
_**Anyway, enjoy! Hopefully the wait for the next won't be so long.**_  
_**Also, as ever, I am overwhelmed by the constant support for my writing! I honestly had no idea I and it would get this popular! In reality though, the credit should go to those who created the characters (and the respective movies) in the first place.**_


	16. Chapter 16

The instant Peter pushed open the door to floor 45, he knew something was wrong. For one, he didn't get fired on by one of Tony Stark's turrets of doom. God, he hated those things. He was still stumped on how the Widow had managed to traverse up the tower higher than him, there was _no way _she was as fast as he was.

He crept into the room, before attaching himself to the ceiling. The amount of people who never looked up in their lives had told him the ceiling was the best place to go. Plus, he could get a better view of the room. The turrets weren't moving at all, like they'd been put out of action for some reason. The only thing he could think of at the time was that maybe someone had figured out how to disable them, and the only person who would do that in the current situation was the Widow.

On the ceiling, he saw no sign of her, although he did spot their flag – his mask. He gathered it was Stark's idea. He didn't care either way, it made it easier for him to execute the latter half of his plan, once he reached floor 71. What he did care about was the fact that the Widow, who had been ahead of him before now, had somehow not made it to floor 45.

_Unless, _he thought, moving slowly across the ceiling.

His suspicions were confirmed when a figure bolted across the room, making for the mask in the centre. Peter leapt, moving to intercept the woman, and tackled her before she made it halfway.

"Did you really think you'd be able to get past me that easily?" he asked, before Natasha retaliated, landing a solid punch on his shoulder with her blue-glowing hand.

_Jesus on a-_

The thing was electrified, and sent a large jolt through Peter's body, bringing him crashing to the floor, momentarily stunned.

_So that's what she meant by low setting, _he thought, as she made another move for the mask, only this time he snagged her with webbing. "If you wanna play it that way," he muttered, "I'd only be happy to oblige."

Natasha Romanoff wasn't going to lie down and take whatever he threw at her, like a normal thug. She twisted, freeing herself from the webbing's entanglement, before taking up a defensive stance in front of the table.

Peter mirrored her, before commenting "This makes a nice change from the goons I'm usually faced with."

"Likewise," Natasha returned.

There was a brief second's pause, before the pair acted, connecting with their different styles of fighting. Natasha had been trained to fight almost any opponent, yet she'd never faced anyone quite like Peter, unless she counted the few and far-between sparring sessions she'd had with Steve. Said sparring sessions, however, provided little help here – Peter Parker might have strength similar to Steve Rogers', yet he was far more flexible, had far faster reflexes; and had little combat training. He used his entire body in a fight, lifting himself off the ground and wrapping his legs around her waist, attempting to bring her down with the momentum of the manoeuvre.

He was surprised then, when Natasha managed to counter him, grabbing onto his hips to form something like a see-saw. Peter soon found that when he attempted to twist and throw her to the floor, she landed feet-first, instead using _her _momentum to throw him. _What is this, partner cartwheels? _he thought, turning back to face her, only to find her boot in very close proximity to his face.

He was glad he had his senses, the reflexes that made his body respond in the way it did. Otherwise, this fight would have been over on level 1. He caught the boot, spinning it – and her – to land face down on the floor. She didn't stay down, though, pushing herself back up, using her arms as a springboard of sorts.

When she faced him again, she found she had barely a second to react before the kid's own foot came at her shoulder. She spun with the force of the kick, using the momentum to build up a punch of her own, but it was dodged with ease. The kid was warier of her Widow's Bite after experiencing it firsthand. It was only then that she noticed that they'd changed positions and now Peter was in front of the table she'd been previously guarding. Peter grinned: "Two can play at that game," he said, before grabbing the mask and leaping to the ceiling, making for the door.

Natasha wasn't going to give up that easily, and leapt onto one of the desks, following him. Hurling herself upwards, she just about managed to cinch her arms around his waist.

"For the love of-" Peter muttered, as Natasha brought her legs around his body, leaving her arms free. At this range, it was almost impossible for him to dodge, especially with his hands currently stuck to the ceiling, and he received a number of withering blows to his upper body. So, in the end, _he_ let go too, using his feet to keep him anchored, causing both of them to hang upside down. Almost immediately Natasha was at a disadvantage again, but she tightened her grip. At the moment, they were both facing the same way, Natasha wrapped around Peter's back, meaning Peter was on the receiving end of Natasha's attacks and pretty much powerless to resist. _All right, she's had her fun, _he thought, as he snapped his head out of the way of one of her punches. Bringing his hands back to the ceiling, he hurled himself backwards, towards the floor.

Natasha had enough presence of mind to move before they crashed down, and let go, landing on her feet. Peter did the same, and was on the move again, leaping over Natasha. This time, however, he had his web-shooter activated, effectively encasing Natasha in the strong fibres. Natasha twisted, trying to remove herself, but Peter was moving too quickly. Eventually, she was left stood perfectly upright, encased in a webbing cocoon.

"You've seen _Lord of the Rings, _right?" Peter asked, removing the mask from his pocket and pulling it over his head, looking somewhat incongruous with the casual clothing he was wearing. "Just be glad I don't have a stinger is all I'm saying."

With that, he left the room, leaving Natasha to attempt to work her way out of the bindings, cursing as she did so.

* * *

From floor 65 upwards, the layout of Stark Tower changed slightly. For example, floors 67 through 69 were actually part of the same space, with the higher floors forming different levels of the same area, much like the circles of a theatre. As such, the protection had to change slightly. The turrets and mines were still in place, just much less frequently. Peter gathered that Tony Stark believed if an enemy had managed to penetrate this far, they probably deserved a break. He was glad for it; the journey up from floor 45 had been no less taxing than the journey _to_ it.

Tony Stark, however, wasn't about to make it any easier for Peter. He knew full well about the giant gaping hole that existed on floor 71, and the advantages it would give Peter in the race to the top. As such, he'd put an extra precaution on floors 67 to 69. It wasn't cheating, it was utilising the resources available.

To Clint Barton, it was payback for the itching powder he'd managed to get into the Iron Man suit three days ago. He was currently winning their prank war, and he wasn't going to let Stark catch up. Ever since they'd come together to try and make the "We Defeated Loki" party, they'd been a pair that had terrorised the rest of the Avengers team. If SHIELD agents had thought Clint and Natasha were bad, Clint and Tony's war against each other was bad enough, let alone their schemes against the hapless agents. The party? Nick Fury had told them in no uncertain terms what Thor would most likely do if such a party were held.

The pranks had started small – first of all Tony had switched out Clint's cereal for birdseed. In retaliation, Clint had graffitied the Iron Man suit with many "informative" pictures and words. Switched out arrows, a reprogrammed computer-slash-butler (Tony's face when Jarvis had suddenly turned into an angry Spanish man for a day had been _priceless, _but some of the credit had to go to Bruce for help with the programming), and an empty wardrobe later, Clint _knew _Tony was just waiting for the right moment to retaliate. As such, his current position "guarding" floors 67 to 69 gave Tony ample time to find a new way to get back at Clint, meaning he wasn't best pleased at the moment.

It had been mainly tedious, sitting in the same space for a good while, watching the trackers and cameras on his handheld monitor, as well as making sure the (now disabled) turrets didn't pick him up. The only interesting thing so far had been the showdown on floor 45. Clint had to hold in his laughter at the end. He ran a thumb along his bowstring, checking the tension. He'd switched out his lethal arrows for some more suitable ones. Now all he had to do was wait for Peter to make his move.

The first one was predictable: he fired his web-shooter at the ceiling to pull himself up. Clint aimed, and let loose an arrow, scissoring through the fibre like it was a wet piece of string, causing Peter to drop down to the floor again.

"This is cheating!" he shouted. "Stark said nothing about you!"

Clint smirked. "I'm part of the Tower's protection, if needs be," he called back, readying a trick arrow. This time Peter leapt upwards, using his momentum to reach the ceiling – just as Clint fired another arrow. Peter dodged just in time, the shaft lodged into the ceiling next to him.

And _then _it exploded.

It wasn't a lethal charge – and certainly not the same type as the one that had exploded in Loki's face in the middle of their battle – but instead a smoke grenade inside the arrow tip, engulfing Peter in the dense smoke. The kid certainly hadn't been expecting it, obviously thinking the treat was ended as soon as it had embedded itself in the ceiling.

The smoke itself was engineered to be lighter than the air around it, and as such, hovered near the ceiling, meaning Peter had to once more lower himself to the floor, giving Clint the advantage again. The smoke hadn't reached his eyrie yet, so he was safe for now, and there were other positions he could choose after that. Currently, he was near the windows that looked out upon the Chrysler Building, and as such, had an overview of all three levels. Each storey had a glass floor, meaning that even if Peter chose to use those to attach to he wouldn't be hidden from Clint for long.

Now he was on the floor, he was a much easier target to hit altogether, despite the abnormally fast reflexes Clint had observed in person and on camera. Clint decided to act fast and hard, changing arrow types every time he fired one, so the kid didn't get too used to a certain type. A sonic arrow, emitting a high-pitched drone as it hit the floor near Peter's feet; a flare arrow, which nearly blinded _him_, let alone the kid; one of his bola arrows, which Peter dodged well enough, leaping to a nearby support column, prompting Clint to use one of his boomerang arrows, curving round the pillar. Peter caught it, and found that this one had an explosive of sorts attached to it as well.

He hurled it away: it detonated a few feet away from him, releasing a strong, white fibrous substance, engulfing the entirety of Peter's body, pushing him back against the pillar.

_Was that- is that? _He thought, eyes widening slightly, before he realised.

"Tony Stark stole my web shooter," he said to himself. "A grenade arrow?" he called out, louder, so Clint could hear. "A _web _grenade arrow?"

He worked against the fibres – Stark may have adapted it, but Peter had essentially created it, and as such knew how it worked – while simultaneously peering around the column, attempting to pinpoint where Hawkeye was. He spotted him lurking in a shadowy recess near the ceiling, and ducked back behind the pillar, working faster to remove the webbing. He didn't want to know what the next arrow was going to be.

Clint, meanwhile, had another arrow at the ready, another supplied by Tony. He'd briefly inspected the contents of the arrowhead and had to laugh – _Raid. _Stark had a sense of humour indeed. It couldn't hurt to fire it, so he curved another arrow round the pillar, thudding into the plaster an inch beside Peter's head. Peter managed to just break free as it detonated, and he choked, staggering away from the oppressive substance.

"Is that insecticide?" he croaked in disbelief. _Are you telling me I have a superhuman weakness in insecticide?! _He thought incredulously. _Figures. _

Now he'd pinpointed Clint, however, he kept on the move, darting between columns until he reached a suitable one. Firing his web-shooter twice, he created a slingshot of sorts, and fire himself towards Clint's outlook.

Clint hadn't particularly been expecting the kid to fire _himself, _but he had just enough time to gather his wits and catch the flying human. Once Peter was at close range, however, the fight was all one-way traffic. Severely annoyed by the arrows, hold-ups and the _freaking Raid_, Peter was in no mood for a prolonged fight, like the one with Natasha. Clint's bow found itself attached to the ceiling several feet away, and Clint himself was left hanging upside down in a webbing cocoon.

Peter stood, looking up at his handiwork for a moment, before his face split into a grin – regaining his humour instantly. "Y'know, this could be considered art."

He then leapt up to the level of floor 69, and exited into the stairwell.

* * *

_Finally, _Peter reached floor 71. And, just like he'd hoped, the hole in the side of the tower had only been covered with plastic sheeting. "Praise the lord," Peter muttered, easily pulling it apart. As he stood on the threshold between the tower and the city outside, he considered leaping off and leaving the tower far behind him.

_No, _he wanted to see the look on Tony Stark's face when he won. _And _he wanted to get revenge for the Raid and web-grenade arrows.

Being on the outside of the building had some advantages, one of them being able to see what was inside each floor as he travelled up. As soon as he spotted the floor he was looking for, he grinned. Floor 86 was the one he'd been looking for: Tony Stark's quarters. And after a few minutes' work, he'd managed to prise the frame apart enough to let himself in. He stayed perched on the sill for a moment, before firing his web-shooter at multiple angles throughout the room, turning it into a labyrinth of spider's webs. As he'd predicted, there were no turrets and mines in this room, not even cameras, so Stark would have no idea about his little payback. For good measure, he even opened the fridge from across the room, pulling out the contents and scattering them across the floor. With that, he slid out of the gap, putting the seal back in place. _Good as new, _he smirked, before continuing on his journey.

On floor 88, he found someone else had had a similar idea. At a quick glance, he gathered it had been Clint Barton's room. Mostly for the fact that most of the furniture was missing, and instead it had all been replaced with a large pile of wood that vaguely resembled a bird's nest. Clearly Peter wasn't the only one who'd been getting his own back today.

On floor 90, he found three people waiting for him: Stark, Banner and Rogers. Bruce smiled: "Great work."

Stark looked a little put out at losing his money, but he grumbled his assent. "Jarvis, shut the program down," he said to the ceiling. "We're done."

'_Doing so now, sir,' _the computer replied, machines throughout the building whirring once more.

"So, what do I get?" Peter asked, taking off his mask. "Oh, and by the way, I stopped by at your room," he said to Tony. "Consider it a payback for the _Raid."_

"You did _what?!" _Tony cried, immediately leaving the room.

As for Bruce and Steve, they did nothing but laugh as Tony's shouts of rage echoed all the way up to floor 90.

_**A/N: And praise the lord, that sequence is over. I became increasingly aware that the fight between Peter and Natasha became a series of vaguely awkward sex positions at one point. If any of you have issues figuring out how the "partner cartwheels" move (as I so put it) worked, drop me a message and I'll endeavor to explain it. Also, with the raid, I looked it up - Spiderman is susceptible to ethyl chloride, a component of insecticide. Okay, so Raid might not contain it, but give me some poetic licence here.  
****The prank war between Tony and Clint? I honestly couldn't resist it. I just think it would work amazingly well between the to characters.**_  
_**Thanks to Ultra Sonic for giving me the Web Grenade idea! I adapted it a little for Hawkeye's arrows, but credit needs to go to you for it. On the subject of said arrows, just about all of them have been used by Hawkeye canonically. Even the boomerang ones.**_  
_**Also, if you're having trouble with the layout of floors 67-69, imagine a glass-floored theatre. Stalls, dress circle, gods, right?**_  
_**Finally, thanks to you all for the follows and the reviews! I'm still gaining more and more practically every day and your continued support is great!**_  
_**Oh, and another finally, I see one more chapter in the works, and then this story shall be officially over.**_


	17. Chapter 17

The sun was just rising over New York City. If there had been any news helicopters in the area, they would have seen a peculiar sight on the helipad of Stark Tower. A gathering, consisting of seven people. The five Avengers, Nick Fury, and Peter Parker. Peter was dressed in his Spiderman costume, aside from the mask, which he held in his hand. The suit itself had been repaired and slightly modified by Tony Stark – Peter's reward for winning the bet, he said, but they all knew that he wanted to help the kid out. He'd adapted the thin, light material, giving Peter some protection against bullets and knives (_"It's not armour, though, so I'd advise you to not throw yourself at gun-wielding goons")._ Peter had also gotten a new series of contacts for his phone, with each separate Avenger, Fury, and SHIELD HQ listed under regular sounding names. He'd refused a new phone totally, saying it would arouse suspicion with the kids at school.

"I have a question about that, actually," Bruce had said, "Why do you let yourself get beat up by those kids? You could take them down in an instant."

Peter had shrugged. "You see it all the time: a bank robber gets caught because he suddenly grows rich and spends all his money. If I suddenly start throwing people around, they're going to get suspicious. I entered high school a weak nobody, I gotta leave high school as one."

On this day, Friday morning, Nick Fury had arrived with news for Peter: SHIELD was going to let him be. For now, at least, and on some conditions.

"One: You have to report in once every two weeks. Now, as your cover for being here was for an internship, we've already arranged for you to come to the tower every two weeks and work. We have no interest in revealing your identity to those around you.  
"Two: If we call you, you come. Now, this is basically just a formality, we're probably gonna call these guys-" he gestured to the Avengers "-before we call you, but if we can't reach them all and there's a crisis in New York, you'll get called if you're not there already. And we don't care what time it is, so you better keep that phone on all the _time, _boy.

"Three: If _you _are ever in trouble, you call us. I don't want you pulling any of this solo hero crap. If you think you can handle it, fine. If you know you're gonna be over your head, call."

"Does that apply for my homework as well?" Peter asked, smirking, before adopting a serious demeanour for a moment. "Y'know, you're okay, for a mysterious government type. I guess I should say thanks for letting me go, and giving me this stuff." He shrugged on his bag, storing the phone inside it. He checked the web-shooters on his wrists, deciding in the end that, 'on a show of good faith', he would allow Stark to keep the designs. At least he'd now have a place to source a replacement if these ever broke, the circuitry hadn't been cheap. It also felt good to belong somewhere, to have people he could rely on for _all _his needs. Gwen was good and all, but Peter wasn't going to tell her _all _the gory details all the time – she'd run for the hills screaming. These people, however, were trained, they'd seen worse things than he had; he could confide in them.

Not that he would very often, he had a reputation to maintain, and a prank war to win. He'd had _no_ idea what he'd let himself in for after redecorating Tony's room and pinning Clint to the ceiling. Even Natasha had it in for him after he'd cocooned her.

He turned, stretching his limbs as he overlooked the city. "I guess this is where we part ways, like the movie clichés of old," he said, smiling wider. "Well, until I have to meet with my parole officer," he said, gesturing to Fury. That earned a smile from the rest gathered.

"Take care of yourself, Peter," Steve said, offering him a hand to shake. Peter took it, slightly amused at the formality of the occasion – the day before they'd had a quick sparring session after Rogers had commented on his fighting style.

One by one, the Avengers said their goodbyes, until Peter reached Tony, who was looking thoughtful. "Next time Thor's around, ask him to lift the hammer," he said, somewhat cryptically – it earned him a reproachful look from Fury.

"A bet, already?" Peter grinned, before holding his hand out for Tony to shake. "Sure you won't lose again?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure about this one," the man replied, shaking the proffered hand, and then he got the shock of his life: Peter Parker pulled him in for a hug.

"Try not to get yourself killed, web-slinger," he said, after a moment, as the others shared looks.

"Web-slinger? I like it," Peter grinned, before moving to the edge of the helipad.

He paused for a moment, and then turned back.

"Y'know, despite it sounding clichéd and overused, I'm glad I met you guys. Just, next time, try not to get me stabbed. And if you ever need me, call on your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman."

With that, he pulled the mask over his head, and leapt off the rooftop, swinging away from the Tower.

For a moment, they all watched him in silence.

Then Tony swore: "I _knew _that kid was up to something. Bastard stole my wallet."

* * *

_**A/N: Well, here it is my friends. The end of Spider's Print. I seriously couldn't have done it without the constant support from you all. I'm sad, in a way, this is actually the first lengthy fic I've ever finished (I'm terrible normally), and I think I have you to thank for that.**_  
_**I expect there'll be a sequel - I mean, I'd love to see Peter meet Thor, and there are so many prank ideas to be fulfilled. Although, don't expect it for a good while, plotlines take a while to work out and I have many other stories I'd like to share with you. Hopefully you'll enjoy them as much as you've enjoyed this!**_  
_**Wow, I'm kinda at a loss of what to say. Just, thank you all so much for the encouragement, support, tips, and general reactions to my story. I'm glad it pleased you to read it as it pleased me to write it.**_  
_**Also, the reviewer who asked about the "partner cartwheels"? I only named it that way because that was the only thing I could reference it to. It's more, partner flipping, but I get your point.**_  
_**Okay, this is Caitlin, leaving you her last author's note on Spider's Print. Thanks once more, and thanks to Marvel for providing me with the characters to write from!**_


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